


Something That Could Never Be Replaced

by EvilConcubine



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Abuse, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Cover Art, Dark, Horror, Hurt Loki, Hurt/Comfort, Loki is 15, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Miðgarðr | Midgard, Mystery, Phobias, Protective Thor, Psychological Trauma, Torture, Underage Rape/Non-con, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 23:29:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 52,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1406566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilConcubine/pseuds/EvilConcubine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~<br/>Loki suffers from achluophobia (fear of the dark). Thor is very protective of him, but nobody can foresee everything, especially when somebody behind your back plots against your brother and decides to 'fight fire with fire'. </p><p>Things turn into an unimaginable nightmare and you start questioning your own sanity. But not your feelings.<br/>~</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something That Could Never Be Replaced

**Author's Note:**

> I've finally found time to submit this story on AO3 after cleaning it up a bit. It was originally posted on [fanfiction.net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8765320/1/Something-That-Could-Never-Be-Replaced). I apologise for not posting the chapters separately; unfortunately, I don't have much time to do it, so the whole story is uploaded in one go. I hope you don't mind and it's readable enough.
> 
> As usual, I have to warn that **English is not my native language**. Unlike Thor and Loki, betas and I are not meant to be.

 

**1\. The Heart's Choice**

     "Happy birthday, Sif!" Hulda, Sif's cousin cheered. Everyone cheered after her and raised their glasses to Sif's nineteenth birthday. They were drinking champagne under the watchful eye of Sif's father. Most of the young guests were legally adults, but most of them also weren't twenty years old yet to drink without a trouble; and since Gunnar was not only a strict single father of his daughter, a young woman now, but also a zealous policeman, he maintained order even during the party, making sure the young people were behaving (which meant the smallest amount of drinking). As he was watching all of them, some already felt like they were criminals, without doing anything wrong. One of the guests decided to never mention the bottle of Brennivín ***** in his bag and leave it there for his own good. Sif was frowning at her strict parent now and then for making her guests feel uncomfortable, but there was also a strong affection in her eyes, at the same time, so the effect was ruined.

     Thor wasn't interested in drinking, anyway. He was to drive home today and he was too much into sport; a lifestyle, which rarely went well with alcohol. But the food was amazing and he enjoyed the party and the company of friends. Suddenly his mobile phone started vibrating in his pocket and the loud piano classical music attracted everyone's attention. By this music Thor knew who exactly was ringing him, so he couldn't just shut the call down.

"Sorry, it's mine," Thor smiled and answered the call, getting out of the lavish table. Everybody returned to their conversations as Thor approached a window absentmindedly. It was getting late.

"Hi, Loki," Thor greeted his younger brother cheerfully.

"Thor... When are you going to get home?" the slightly nervous voice enquired.

"In a few hours. What is it?" the older brother asked suspiciously.

"N-nothing. See you then."

"What happened?" Thor asked insistently. Something wasn't right; it was obvious. He heard Loki sighing.

"The electricity has gone out. I'm outside right now," he answered after a short pause.

"I see... I'm on my way then."

"No! Don't. I can wait. I'll go for a walk."

"I'm pretty sure you're not wearing a coat right now and haven't got any money with you to go to a café. You're going to get cold. It's okay; you know I'm only thirty minutes away from you," Thor assured, imagining that Loki had run out of the house at breakneck speed, too panicked to get dressed or take his wallet. It was surprising enough that he had his phone with him, though he'd, most likely, had it with him when the light had gone off.

"Thank you, Thor," Loki said quietly after another pause, obviously ashamed

"It's all right, brother. I'll be there soon," the older of the two smiled and finished the call.

     He approached Sif and excused himself quietly, promising to come back later. She asked if he needed any help, but he refused, and left as quickly as it was polite, but quickly enough to not make Loki wait for him longer than necessary.

"What is it? Where has Odinson gone?" one of the guests asked.

"Home. He'll be back soon. His brother rang and said that the light in their house had gone out," Sif shrugged.

"And?" the other young man lifted his eyebrow.

"I've heard Loki is afraid of the dark," one of Sif's classmates explained. "Some phobia... What does it call?" he frowned pensively.

"Achluophobia. It's called achluophobia," Hulda replied.

"Right..."

"But... How old is he? He's fifteen; almost sixteen, isn't he? Pfft... A little too old for imagining monsters in dark corners."

"Arnar, you're eighteen and you watch cartoons that my nine years old niece consider childish; and you also brag about your huge collection of dolls... oh, sorry, **action figures** ," Sif pointed out. The young man rolled his eyes and the other guests either chuckled, or smiled at Sif's remark.

 

***

 

     Loki slightly rubbed his own shoulders, feeling that he was really starting to get cold. He was barefoot and he was only wearing black trousers and two plain t-shirts: the dark-green, short-sleeved one over the black long-sleeved one. Not nearly enough for October, so his lean body was shaking slightly. But a severest cold wouldn't have made him return home right now. He looked at his family house, quite a decent one, both outside and inside, one of the most beautiful in this part of the town; but no warmth or comfort of home would've lured him inside, into the darkness. The windows looked back at him like ominous black holes, and Loki looked away from them in frustration.

     When he saw the dark-red car from the corner of his eye, he sighed in relief. It had only taken Thor twenty minutes to get home, instead of promised thirty. He had obviously driven faster than traffic rules allowed.

     Thor quickly got out of the car, as soon as it had stopped, and approached his younger brother, whose lips were already purplish from cold, his nose and cheeks slightly pink. He was breathing out steam, embracing his own shaking body with both arms. It was too cold even for someone like Loki, who mostly felt comfortable when the weather was colder than most people found pleasant. His feet were bare and his light clothes were not much better than having no clothes at all in such weather conditions. Thor pressed Loki's thin, shaking body against his own, warm and muscular one, wrapping his arms around the younger brother, who immediately started relaxing, feeling warmer and safer.

"Are you all right?" Thor asked. He felt a nod against his shoulder and let go of the smaller body. He took off his warm coat and wrapped it around Loki. "Get in the car. I'll see what I can do about electricity," he said thoughtfully, looking at their dark, powerless house.

"Fine," Loki nodded and headed to the car.

"Why are you limping? Are you hurt?" Thor asked with concern, noticing that his sibling was lame in the left leg. Loki stopped and sighed, turning to him.

"It's nothing. I hurt my ankle a little when I was getting out of the window," Loki replied and resumed limping to the car. _'Of course...'_ Thor thought sadly; Loki would've rather broken all his limbs, jumping out of the window of his room, than ran downstairs to the entrance door through the darkness that scared him so much.

     The older brother used his keys to enter the house and went to the basement to fix the electrical failure if possible. He used the display of his mobile phone to illuminate his way, and, once he was down in the basement, he quickly located the electric torch hanging on the wall near the door.

     The problem was trivial, caused by the overload, most definitely, which had tripped the master breaker. Thor reset it easily, and the lights in Loki's rooms were on once again, as well as everywhere where it had been turned on before the electricity had gone out.

 

***

 

     Meanwhile, Loki was sitting in the driver's seat of Thor's car. The coat and the seat still kept Thor's warmth, and Loki was relaxing into it, not to mention the heater that was blowing out warm air. Feeling safe and getting warm, he thanked the heavens for having Thor as a brother and a closest friend he'd ever had (the warmth was making him a little too sentimental for his taste). Thor never shamed Loki for his embarrassing phobia, never made him feel like a coward and a freak, never made fun of him, never insisted on getting professional help when Loki had made it clear that he didn't want any after having two failed attempts to fix the problem with a help of doctors. No one understood Loki better than Thor, who was protective of him, even though they weren't blood brothers.

 

_Frigga couldn't have any more children after Thor, but she desperately wanted to have one more child. When all other options had failed, they had nothing else left to do but adopt a child. Together with six years old Thor they came to the orphanage, already knowing whom they were going to adopt. There was a tiny baby girl, almost one year old, but they had never really seen her before, only had her photographs and information about her sent by post; and most details about her adoption had been discussed on the phone. Now they only needed to see her and make a final decision, though Frigga seemed to have already decided that she wanted this child to be a part of her family. Odin was only doing it for her, convinced that one child was quite enough for them; after all, they already hadn't been quite young when they'd had Thor._

_While they were waiting for a nurse to come back and bring them the baby girl, Thor wasn't very interested in what was going on and couldn't sit still, so he went outside to the playground, full of little children. No one paid him much attention and he was trying to decide if he waned to join any game or just to watch. Suddenly he spotted the little boy trying to get on one of the swings, but was too small to do it without help. The adults who were looking after the children didn't seem to notice, so Thor decided to help and approached the smaller boy. He lifted the little one up and helped him to make himself comfortable on the swing. The dark-haired boy was looking back at him curiously with his green eyes and then gave him a tiny smile when Thor started swinging him back and forth gently, making sure the tiny hands of the smaller boy were holding fast onto the ropes._

_"Just be careful," one of the adults smiled at the blond boy as she approached them to make sure the younger of the two wasn't going to fall._

_"I'm careful," Thor assured her. The woman smiled again and left them alone. "I'm Thor. What's your name?" the older boy asked._

_"Fow?" the smaller child asked quietly and uncertainly._

_"Thor," the blond corrected, pronouncing his name distinctly._

_"Fow," the smaller one nodded, making Thor laugh kind-heartedly._

_"And you?"_

_"Loki," the dark-haired child replied._

_"How old are you?" Thor enquired. The younger boy let go of one of the ropes, raised his hand and showed three little fingers._

_Loki was too little to memorise this day vividly enough, but he would be able to remember how Thor, after swinging him some more, stopped and took him off the swing. When Loki was standing on his feet as firmly as his age allowed him to, Thor took his little hand in his and went to the building, making the smaller boy follow, which Loki did without any protests._

_"Where are you taking him?" one of the adults on the playground asked, smiling at them._

_"Home!" Thor replied cheekily and started walking even faster, as if expecting to be stopped from literally abducting the smaller child, who didn't seem to mind though._

_When inside the building they reached Thor's parents that were busy, looking at the cooing baby girl in Frigga's arms, Loki suddenly became very shy, but Thor was pulling him forward persistently. When they were only a few steps away from Thor's parents, they stopped, and Frigga noticed them._

_"Oh, Thor, look at her, she's so beautiful," his mother smiled, showing him the baby, whose little face was smiling happily after all Frigga's cooing and slight tickling of the girls little body, dressed in an orange, cotton sleepsuit._

_"I don't like her," Thor frowned, hardly even casting a glance at the baby girl. "I want to take **him** home," he said, gently pushing Loki forward. The little boy was looking down shyly with his forefinger in his mouth, not daring to look up at the lady with such a kind voice and carefully arranged honey blond hair._

_"Thor..." Odin started, obviously wanting to explain why it was a bad idea and talk Thor out of it, deciding that it was just another whim of his son, which it was. They already had most adoption papers signed, and they had originally planned to take a baby, not a child who wasn't even really a toddler any longer. Thor opened his mouth to interrupt, but Frigga stopped both of them with a gesture of her hand, seeing that they were making the dark-haired boy really uncomfortable. She slowly lowered herself onto one knee and tried to look at the face of the shy child, but he was still looking down._

_"What's your name?" Frigga asked gently. He quietly answered her question, still with a finger in his mouth, so it was very hard to make out what he'd said, but she managed to do it. "Loki?" she asked. He nodded. For a couple of seconds he lifted his eyes and looked back at her before looking down again. "You have very beautiful eyes, Loki," she smiled, and he couldn't help but smile, too. She looked at her son and husband, making it clear that they needed to talk._

_When they were leaving, the brilliant green eyes were following them, and Thor was turning his face every now and then to look back at the smaller boy, obviously not wishing to leave Loki behind._

_They came back less than one month later and Loki quickly recognised them, especially Thor, who was smiling at him happily all the time, his blue eyes were shining with joy, like clear blue diamonds, his freckles bright. He'd got his own way (as always)._

_The next thing Loki was aware of was Frigga picking him up, pressing him against her chest, and then he was put into the back seat of a car. Every time he looked at Thor uncertainly, he was getting a comforting glance of the blue eyes._

_And so the orphanage was left behind forever. Loki had a family now._

_Thor had **chosen** him. **Thor**._

_When Frigga asked Thor why he had chosen Loki and not anyone else, he only shrugged and said that he liked Loki as soon as he had seen him for the first time, and wanted the little boy to be theirs; plain and simple. He said that Loki should be only his and no one else's; therefore he couldn't let anyone else take Loki home with them, in case there would be someone willing to do it. Frigga smiled, and would smile many more times, at Thor's possessiveness over his, now **officially** his, little brother. She had secretly hoped to hear that Thor had pitied the little boy and wanted that little boy to have a family, but, no, Thor's words had been much more selfish. It was both hilarious and, at the same time, indicated that Odin and she had spoilt their older son immensely. Since she had given birth to him when she already hadn't been quite young, and there had been so many futile attempts for her to get pregnant, so Thor was a long-awaited child, he was pampered, sometimes beyond reason, as she could honestly admit, and going shopping with him almost always got him what his index finger was pointing at. Both Frigga and Odin were guilty of that. So now she found it rather amusing that the way Thor had chosen Loki was pretty similar to that. But she knew that, despite being spoilt, Thor was a good boy, caring and protective, so she didn't worry about the new child in their family._

_Very soon Loki's phobia revealed itself, but, he'd actually had it even before his adoption, he'd had it since before he could remember himself, or even longer. Doctors assured them that it would pass... But it wasn't even getting better. Darkness paralysed him with fear; he could never fall asleep without his night light on, at the very least. When he needed a glass of water or to use the toilet at nights, he could never even start considering going out of his room if his entire way wasn't illuminated. Mother had long made sure he had a switch in his room that allowed him to turn on the light in the corridor that he had to walk through to get to the bathroom. And the light was bright enough for him to feel comfortable. Loki was very grateful for her thoughtfulness and for being so supportive._

_When one night when he was twelve he woke up in complete darkness, his night light wasn't working, as well as any light outside their house, he was so scared that he could hardly breathe. He was disoriented and didn't know what to do other than lie in his bed motionlessly and weep without making a sound. He couldn't think and when he tried to scream for help, no sound escaped him. He tried to call for his Mother, not even remembering that she and Father were away for a business trip, but he couldn't make even a small sound anyway; it couldn't go past the hot lump of terror in his throat. Very soon his panicked mind started playing tricks on him (those were just tricks, weren't they?), and he was sure he saw something moving in the darkness. He could even hear a very faint noise of something dragging itself along the carpet. At least, that was what his mind had come up with. He could feel his hair standing on end, especially the tiny hairs on the back of his neck; his back was covered with cold sweat and he knew he was losing his mind. He shut his eyes tight. What if **it** was standing at his bed now? What if **it** was looking down on him to torture him with fear before dragging him into its own world of eternal darkness or killing him right here in his bed. How much time had passed since the light had gone out? For how long **it** had been there, watching him as he slept, waiting for him to wake up in the darkness? **It** had been watching the way he slept; slept unaware that he was surrounded by the darkness, unaware that he was in danger. But now **it** knew that he was awake._

_He wanted to get up and run, but his rigid body refused to move other than let him curl up into a tight ball and clench the blanket in his fist. He was helpless. **It** was there, at his bed, he knew it... **It** was there, looking at him, he knew it, he could feel it... So close. Itwasthere... **It could attack any moment...** The only question was whether **it** was going to attack right now or a second later; or several hours later when Loki would no longer be sane. His mind was dim with terror. And then he heard some noise, loud and quickly approaching footsteps, and now he was sure that he wasn't going to live through this night. He tried to brace himself for an attack, for pain, for something terrible that was surely about to happen to him..._

_"Loki! Loki, look at me. Look at me, brother!" the worried and very familiar voice was calling for him. "Come on, Loki. Open your eyes. Breathe. Look at me!" the voice kept calling._

_Thor had never seen his brother **this** scared before. His normally pale face was now a white mask of pure terror, wet with tears. Thor was rubbing the stiff, shivering body gently to make it relax and to attract the attention of the unresponsive boy. Then he slightly shook Loki out of his stupor as he kept calling his name and asking him to look at him. When the green, red-rimmed eyes finally looked back and Loki emitted a muffled cry, Thor sighed in relief, lifted his brother's upper body and embraced it tightly._

_"It's all right," he murmured. Now he was so thankful that he had woken up in the middle of the night and, as he had gone to the bathroom, he'd discovered that the electricity didn't work. He had quickly taken the antique candelabrum from the living room downstairs and decided to check if Loki was all right, only to find his little brother paralysed with terror._

_Only when Loki saw that there was a candelabrum with three lit candles on his bedside table, he started to calm down slowly. He was watching the candle light, holding onto Thor._

_"It's all right now," Thor said again quietly. "I'm going to leave you now for a few minutes," he warned. Loki started to shake his head, wordlessly begging him not to leave. "I'll leave the candles with you, don't worry. I only want to try to fix the light. I'll be back soon, I promise. Okay?" Thor kept coaxing Loki softly. The younger youth nodded fervently, but his hands kept holding onto Thor's t-shirt and it took another minute to make him let go._

_Three candles weren't giving enough light to make Loki feel really comfortable, but it was much better than nothing. Unfortunately, Thor had left the door of Loki's bedroom open and the gaping darkness threatened to cross the threshold of the room and flow inside, as if waiting for the candles to go out any moment. And something else that was shrouded in that darkness would enter with it. 'Stop it! There's no one and nothing out there!' Loki scolded himself._

_Thor was away for only about twenty minutes, but for Loki those twenty minutes felt like hours. The younger boy flinched when from the corner of his eye he saw someone entering, but immediately relaxed when he saw Thor with some plastic bag in his hand._

_"I wouldn't be able to fix it, because the most part of our street has lost power. I saw one of our neighbours outside. He said they've already rung the electric company. They said there was some accident and they would be able to restore power in the morning," the blond youth said. Loki sighed in defeat. "But don't worry about it," the older of the two added. He opened the plastic bag, which was full of candles of different shapes, sizes and colours, though most of them were white or blue. There were also candle sticks, candelabra or transparent glasses for thicker candles._

_Sitting on his bed Loki was enchanted by the sight of Thor lighting the candles one by one, without fussing, placing them so that each dark corner was illuminated. For Loki it looked like a magical ritual of casting out the darkness and his fears together with it. And his older brother was doing it for him, making the fear retreat with each new lit candle. Thor even used the expensive scented candles that had been a gift to their Mother from Father's business partner from India. They knew that Frigga wouldn't be angry, knowing the reason why Thor had taken them._

_When the room was beautifully illuminated by about thirty candles, Thor sat down onto Loki's bed, admiring his work, and smiled. Loki smiled back when their eyes met; he was no longer scared and troubled. Thor lay down and held him in his arms._

_"Sleep. I'll stay here with you," he promised. Only an hour or so later Loki fell asleep in the arms of his older brother._

_The next day Loki was very quiet, embarrassed by what had happened last night and his childish behaviour. It was always embarrassing, even though people assured him that it wasn't his fault._

 

     And now, a few years later he felt the same. He wasn't five, he wasn't twelve; he was fifteen, but nothing had changed, despite what doctors kept telling him, assuring him that the phobia would stay in his childhood. It hadn't, so he felt betrayed and deceived...

 

     Already warm in Thor's car and in Thor's coat, Loki sighed. He was so tired of being afraid of something non-existent. He was a rational person; he was rational at just about everything. But when it was about darkness, he turned into a pathetic coward that accepted no rational, logical and sensible arguments: neither his own, nor anyone else's at all.

 

* * *

  _*Brennivín is an Icelandic native liquor. It's quite strong (almost 40%)._

* * *

 

 

   
**2\. Too Close To Notice**

     When he saw Thor approaching the car, he smiled and the blond smiled back at him, opening the door.

"Let there be light," Thor boomed and proudly pointed his hand at their house, where the light was behind the windows of several rooms.

"Are you a god now?" Loki teased.

"Maybe I am," Thor replied cheekily.

"Too bad I'm an atheist then," the younger of the two chuckled.

"Let's go home; I'll take care of your leg."

"But what about the party?"

"I've already rung Sif and told her that I'm not coming back."

"Sorry for ruining it for you," Loki said sadly, though it was actually a lie, just for show, and he was rather glad that Thor was staying with him.

"Believe me, it wasn't as fun as you think; with Sif's father looking like he was about to arrest someone, it was a bit... tense," Thor rolled his eyes. Loki chuckled.

 

     When the dark-haired youth returned from the bathroom after washing his feet, limping really badly now, his brother was waiting for him in his bedroom.

"Sit down," he said. Loki complied and sat down onto his bed. The older brother carefully took his left foot in his hands. "It looks sprained," he concluded after examining it.

     Thor applied some ice to the hurt ankle and brought the special gel for treating sports injuries, including sprains, and the roll of elastic bandage. Being a sportsman he always kept those things easily accessible.

     When Loki's foot and ankle had been treated, wrapped in a bandage and resting on a pillow, Thor caught his little brother looking at him pensively.

"You enjoy it, don't you?" Loki asked curiously.

"Enjoy what?"

"Taking care of me."

"You know I do," the older one admitted, tucking a thin wayward black strand behind Loki's ear, to match the rest of his hair, combed back in the younger man's usual manner when he wasn't just tying it in a short ponytail.

"What am I going to do when you have a family of your own?" Loki pouted.

"You're doing such a great job of scaring away every girl that has a slightest interest in me, I doubt that I will ever settle down with anyone at all," Thor chuckled.

"That's not true," Loki frowned a little.

"Really? Who made Inga beak up with me the very next day after visiting our home and talking to you?"

"She was an irritating bitch with the intelligence of an amoeba."

"What about Sif? I still can't believe you managed to convince her that she and I should stop dating and become friends instead."

"Because it's true. You have a lot in common and... don't you make great friends?"

"And who needs a chastity belt with a brother like you?" Thor rolled his eyes. He sounded reproachful, but he could never be really angry at Loki, even when his little brother really deserved it, and Thor wasn't blind to it.

"Thor," Loki's expression suddenly became really serious. "Thank you... I bet you wish you had a brother that wasn't a coward." And, yes, that was another thing said mostly for show, because Loki knew what was going to follow, and he just wanted to hear it.

"You're not a coward," Thor frowned. The fact that Loki had a phobia didn't make him a coward. Thor remembered how their mother had accidentally cut her hand in the kitchen and there was quite a lot of blood. Odin and Thor had been away, and only the youngest of them all had been home that day. Loki, an eleven years old boy, had been really worried for his Mother, but, instead of panicking, he'd rung an ambulance and had almost stopped the bleeding before their arrival. He hadn't lost his self-control (well, almost hadn't), despite the gruesome picture of blood all over the kitchen table and some on the floor. He also wasn't the one who was easily scared by films or books, or anything like that (in most cases, at least). And even though Thor, being an older brother, often saw him as an object for protection and care, he would never admit that Loki was a coward. "...And I don't need any other brothers. I chose you, remember?" Thor smiled teasingly. Loki looked amused now. Yes, this was what he'd wanted to hear.

"Yes, I remember. I was just thinking about it. You chose me like one of those radio-controlled toy cars when we were younger. And then like your first laptop, or that ridiculously expensive mountain bicycle. Or like that state of art professional boxing equipment of yours."

"Stop it!" Thor was shaking with laughter.

"Well, it's true."

"Ah, well... I'm one of a few people in the world who actually chose their sibling; so even if I regretted it, I would've only had myself to blame. I regret nothing."

"Aaaww, aren't you a sweetheart?" Loki teased and received a light poke in his ribs, which made him gasp and cower.

"I haven't decided yet, but maybe you're even just as good as that bicycle. After all, I know how to choose things," Thor winked at him.

"Jerk."

     Loki was always moved when his older brother was taking care of him, sometimes to the detriment of his own affairs, which, if Loki was being honest, flattered him and made him feel especially cherished, no matter how selfish it was of him to think that way. But his selfishness was hardly news. Thor was the only person in the world who really cared for him; Thor and Mum. Mother loved him and she'd never made Loki doubt that she loved him just like she loved her biological son. Unlike Father, who'd been making it clear since the day Loki had been adopted, that Thor was his heir; his pride and joy. Loki was used to it, and even if it had sometimes hurt him a little that he could never really impress the man, he understood that favouritism. Thor was Odin's biological son, whom he'd really wanted, especially given how many years it had taken them to finally have him. And Loki had been adopted, because Frigga, not Odin, had really wanted to have a second child. Father took care of Loki, any progress he made pleased the man; but it wasn't the same as if Loki was a real son. Odin had never been cruel or dismissive towards him though. Loki called him 'Father' and Odin called him 'son'.

 

***

 

     The next incident with electricity happened only two weeks later, and, once again, Loki rang Thor, who was having his boxing training session together with Sif and some other people from their club. Thor heard the muffled ringtone of his mobile phone and reluctantly went to the bench where he'd left his sports bag. The number was unfamiliar, but he decided to answer anyway. He was a little out of breath though.

"Yes?"

"Thor, it's me."

"Loki? Is everything all right?"

"No... The light's gone out again."

"Are you all right? You aren't hurt, are you? I'll be there soon," Thor promised quickly.

"No, don't worry, I'm fine," the younger one assured, rolling his eyes. "I just wanted to warn you that I'm at our neighbours right now. I'm using their phone."

"What neighbours?"

"Bjarnadóttir, her fiancé, and... some of their relatives are here, too," Loki replied quietly, making sure no one else but Thor could hear him. "I composed the story about me leaving the house and about the door that accidentally locked behind me, while my keys had been certainly left inside. Almost the truth, though," Loki sighed. Thor could swear he heard some odd mix of embarrassment and amusement in his brother's voice. Of course, he wouldn't have told the truth about something he was so ashamed of to those who were almost strangers.

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

"No, Thor, don't. I can wait. I just wanted to inform you where I was so you wouldn't freak out when you got home, since I haven't got my mobile with me."

"No, I'm going home. I've already almost finished here, anyway," Thor lied. Actually, they'd only just begun their training session, but he didn't want to make Loki feel guilty or ashamed about it.

"Oh... All right then," Loki replied a little unsurely. Thor ended the call and told his trainer and club-mates that he had to leave. No one was happy about it. They were getting ready for a competition, so their recent training sessions were important. Even though boxing, of course, was nothing like a team sport, he was one of the best fighters in their club, so everyone put a lot of hopes into him.

"What is it? His brother is throwing another tantrum or something?" Hilmar, one of the youngest teens in their club sighed. He was only fourteen, but their trainer praised him a lot.

"I've heard the poor babe is scared of the dark, that's all," Stefán, another youth replied mockingly.

"Enough!" Sif barked after hitting her punching bag with such a force that the noise it had produced, as well as the sound of her voice, was startling enough for many people in the gym to jump, including the trainer. Sif and Loki weren't friends, but they were quite alright with each other's presence in Thor's life. She wasn't going to tolerate anyone's jokes and insults behind her best friend's back.

 

***

 

     But, in spite of it, a couple of her younger club-mates just couldn't let it go. When during one of the next training sessions Thor's impressive training fight was once again interrupted by a phone call, they looked annoyed.

     This time it was Frigga who was ringing, though. Thor quickly took off his boxing gloves, took out the mouthguard and answered the call.

"Thor, I'm sorry if I'm interrupting something important..."

"It's all right, Mum..." he replied, recovering his breath and wiping his face with a towel.

"I'm only calling to warn you that your Father has rung the electricians to check our system. They're going to visit today in the evening."

"Has it gone off again?"

"Yes. Twice today, actually. Now that it's getting cold and we've started using electrical heaters, it seems to have started to overload our system; and all those recent power failures occurred when the washing machine was on," Frigga explained.

"I don't remember it happening before."

"That's why the system needs to be checked."

"Right... How's Loki?"

"Oh, he's fine now. I believe he's doing his homework."

"I see..."

"Your Father and I are already on the way to Keflavík. Our flight is only in twenty minutes."

"Don't be late," Thor smiled.

"We won't," Frigga said, and by her voice he could tell that she was smiling, too. "We'll ring you once we arrive to Toronto."

"Okay. Have a nice flight."

"Thank you, darling. And you take care of my baby. And behave."

"I will. Bye, Mum," Thor smiled again and ended the call.

"Is everything fine?" Sif asked when he'd come back to the ring, currently occupied by their two other club-mates.

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Was it about Loki? Is he all right?"

"He is now. We've been having some problems with electricity lately," he explained. They didn't notice Stefán, who'd heard their talk, scowling at what he'd heard.

 

     Thor really hoped the problem would be fixed today. With the approach of December they would hardly see any daylight at all, and if the power failures kept occurring like this, Loki would hardly be able to think about anything else; he would be upset and skittish. Thor didn't want his brother to be upset, any moment expecting the darkness to surround and devour him. He decided that he should visit a shop that suggested lighting appliances and ask for something that gave a really bright light (unlike torches), working on batteries. He was so deep in his thoughts that he let a good punch through, a hook that made him reel back and remember that he was on the ring with his training partner.

"Thor, what's wrong with you? Pay attention!" the trainer frowned. Thor once again took the upright stance, this time fully directing his thoughts at beating his current opponent.

 

***

 

     Stefán had seen that ridiculous hook and groaned in frustration. Thor had never let his guard down like that before. It was all because of his annoying coward of a brother, who was distracting Thor from their upcoming competition and was going to ruin it for them!

 

     When the very next day the annoying coward came to watch them training, Stefán was seething with anger. Loki's very presence irritated him, and the fact that Thor was often distracted, because he felt necessary to exchange some words with his little appendage of a brother, was absolutely inexcusable. By the end of their training session Stefán was beyond himself with anger. The brothers left the building before everyone else, Thor's arm around Loki's shoulders possessively, both young men smiling, having some easy conversation, during which Thor kissed the top of his brother's head. Staring out of the window, Stefán watched them walking towards Thor's car, and he just knew he couldn't leave things like this when their best fighter had such a ridiculous distraction from what they all were aiming up to.

 

***

 

     They got in the car, both in good mood after Thor's today's successful fights. Those had been just training fights, but Thor's performance had been flawless.

"I went shopping today and bought your sports drinks," Loki said casually.

"Thanks. I forgot I didn't have any left," Thor thanked, grinning slightly. "You deserve a reward. What would you like to do today?"

"What I would like to do today and what I actually **have** to do are two completely different things," Loki groaned. "I wish we could go to the cinema, but I have to write a long, boring essay."

"In that case we go to the cinema right now and then we get home and you write your boring essay."

"Oh, Thor, you're an older brother, so shouldn't you be a good influence?"

"And, as a younger one, shouldn't you enjoy being pampered? Now let's go cast your teenage angst away."

"I don't have a teenage angst," Loki looked almost scandalised.

"Yeah, right. 'I have to study so much I have no life', 'My teachers expect too much from me just because I have top marks'," Thor teased. "Now no arguing, we're driving to the cinema," he said sternly, with a mock frown.

"Okay, okay," Loki lifted his hands in surrender, chuckling. "Just, please, make sure it won't be anything like that last time you took me there."

"I promise," Thor rolled his eyes with a grin, knowing perfectly well what the younger of the two meant. In the end of the last summer, heading to the cinema, they had accidentally met two of Thor's classmates, and both girls had managed to literally impose their company on Thor, going to the cinema with the two brothers and fighting for Thor's attention almost the entire time, not to mention that they had been making remarks during the film, most likely, trying to impress the blond young man. Thor had been mostly ignoring them and hadn't really cared, too focused on the film, but Loki had not been amused, to put it lightly. Thor still remembered that, metaphorically speaking, huge, accusing pout he had been getting from his little brother all the way home and for the rest of the day, no matter what Thor had been trying to do or say to make it better. He remembered brief glares and angrily slammed doors when they'd got home. Loki had been very angry at him for failing to get rid of the unwanted company. It had both made Thor a little nervous and amused.

     But this time no one ruined their fun and they were having a good time together. Thor knew Loki needed it after all the recent stress and hard studying, which had made his little brother look a little weary. When Thor was driving them home, he couldn't help but watch Loki out of the corner of his eye from time to time. The younger of the two looked warm and relaxed, pressing his head against the glass of the side window and absentmindedly looking at the passing trees along the road. Thor remembered how clingy Loki had been after being adopted, especially during the first couple of years. The younger child had absolutely refused to share Thor with any other children, and pouted if anyone else joined their games, unless Thor made it very clear that his brother was much more important. The blond boy had used to call him 'little one' and sometimes still did (which at times made the dark-haired youth grumble quietly or sigh in annoyance). He remembered Loki's tiny hand in his own bigger one, and the younger child would follow wherever Thor had led him without question. Sometimes he missed Loki's clinginess, no matter how close they still were. He couldn't imagine his life without his little brother. Even though they'd had some serious arguments when they had been a little younger, and Thor had been quite a boisterous, arrogant and loud youth, experiencing some 'joys' of the transitional age and making others experience those 'joys' as well, they had overcome it. So now that he was almost nineteen, things were much less tense; occasional arguments were nothing in particular, even when Loki was being an unbearable git and Thor half-heartedly wanted (and promised) to kill him. He supposed it was normal for any brothers or sisters.

 

 

**3\. Never Talk To...**

     Loki was a little surprised when after his lessons he was approached by one of Thor's club-mates. The auburn-haired fighter was of the same age with Loki. As far as Loki knew, his name was Stefán.

"Hi, Loki," the other boy greeted with a pleasant smile.

"Hi," Loki replied, slightly confused.

"Are you going to watch our training session again today?"

"Actually, no, I have other plans. What about it?"

"Oh, nothing; just thought we could go to the boxing club together today. We're starting earlier than usual. One guy who trains with us has offered to drive several of ours, so I thought you could join us. I think Thor needs some inspiration before our competition, you know," Stefán smiled again. He made a pause when he saw uncertainty on Loki's face, instead of the clear refusal he'd seen a few seconds earlier. "Come on, it'll be fun. You seemed to be enjoying yourself last time you visited us," the auburn-haired youth then added.

     And so Loki found himself agreeing. They left the school and headed to the car park. Stefán was entertaining him with some easy talk, though Loki didn't pay much attention. He never felt comfortable around hyperactive people that tended to talk fast and a lot, as well as to move and gesticulate in the same wild manner. Stefán seemed to be that tiresome type; either that, or he was nervous for some reason. But he had no reason to be nervous, right? So Loki decided that it was his typical behaviour, and, for his own good, chose to ignore the other youth's empty monologue.

"Here we are. Get in," Stefán said when they approached one of the cars. Loki made himself comfortable in the back seat. There were two other boys inside. One of them was also one of Thor's club-mates; Loki recognised him quickly. The sandy blond-haired boy was fourteen or so.

"Hi," the boy greeted. "Hilmar," he introduced himself and they shook hands.

"Loki," the slightly older youth replied.

"Hi, I'm Karl," the one in the driver's seat introduced himself, almost sounding like he was reluctant to talk. He looked around eighteen. Loki wasn't sure he'd ever seen him before, but he thought he possibly had. Anyway, he didn't know any of them in person, they weren't even Thor's friends, but he'd seen them in the boxing club. Stefán took the front seat, and very soon the car was off.      

     Everyone was quiet, but after Stefán's chatter Loki was thankful for it. He decided to ring Thor and tell him that he was going to be in the club, too, and to ask his older brother if he was already there. Actually, he'd even had no idea that Thor had a training session today, but the schedule changed pretty often now that they were getting ready for a competition, so he was used to it. Before he knew it, however, his mobile phone was snatched out of his hand by Hilmar. Loki froze. Suddenly he also noticed that the car was going the wrong way, so it was obvious that they **weren't** going to the club. He knew he was in trouble.

"Give it back," Loki demanded calmly, refusing to lose any self-control.

"No," Hilmar shook his head.

"Where are you taking me?" Loki asked, still coldly.

"We just want to talk to you, Loki. You see, we're not really looking forward to losing the competition just because the pussy of a brother of one of our best fighters distracts him all the time and wrecks our training sessions," Stefán said seriously, no longer jabbering.

"I don't see how my relationship with my brother is any of your business; but from what I've seen he's not nearly in a bad shape. He's probably in a far better shape than any of you, actually," Loki almost growled, his voice quiet, but angry. "I don't know who you think you are, but I suggest you stop the car right now and let me out, so we can all mind our own business and forget about this talk," he demanded. None of them seemed to be affected, but the car wasn't going too fast, so Loki made a sudden and desperate attempt to open the door and jump out. But the doors were blocked, and Stefán chuckled at the futile attempt. There was almost nobody in the quiet street, and Loki doubted that anyone outside the car would hear him if he screamed, not to mention that he was angry, not panicked. What could they possibly do to him? Yes, each one of them, even the youngest one, was bigger and broader than Loki, but hurting him would get them all into trouble, so he really doubted that they would risk beating him up.

"You're wrong; it's **our** business if we lose just because you try to get some attention," Stefán insisted. "Maybe you just don't want to grow up? Want your brother to baby-sit you forever, don't you? They say you're not even his real brother."

"If you're trying to bully me, save your breath; it doesn't affect me the way you hope it does," Loki sighed in annoyance. It seemed Stefán didn't like not being taken seriously.

"So you're really afraid of the dark," Karl suddenly spoke. Curiosity was evident in his voice and on his face, as Loki could see in the rear view mirror. He didn't find it necessary to answer. Not that it had been a question. Replying wasn't required of him, though, as Karl went on: "You know, one of my friends was afraid of the water and couldn't learn to swim no matter what. His father once took him on a fishing trip, and when they were far enough from the shore, the old man threw my friend out of the boat. Of course, my friend was scared half to death, tried to grasp at the boat, yelled, but his dad ignored him and wasn't letting him hold onto anything. My friend thought he was drowning, and I think he really was; I guess he pissed and shit himself in fear that he was about to die. But then he started moving his arms and legs, and guess what? He was fucking swimming! It was lame, of course, but he managed to reach the shore. After that his father started forcing him to take swimming lessons, whether he wanted it or not. So he had nothing left to do but learn to swim. It's called an exposure therapy... or something like that. So... How about putting you through something similar?"

"Oh..." Stefán chuckled, looking like it was one of the greatest ideas he'd ever heard in his life. "Sounds like an excellent plan," he smirked. After a pause he added: "I happen to know one nice place. Turn to the left here..."

 

     To Loki that didn't sound good at all. The feeling of being in danger settled down inside his stomach, like a cold, heavy, iron ball. He tried to be calm. If he tried to fight, any of them would easily hold him still. He decided that once the car stopped, he would wait for them to open the door; and he would be feigning obedience. It would fool them if they saw no resistance. He was good at fooling people, good at pretending. And then he'd run. He would run like hell and would probably scream for help, to hell with his pride.

     Soon they were on the outskirts of the town. There was only one road to get there that wasn't blocked, and Stefán knew it. The area had mostly been abandoned after the plant located here had been closed several years ago, a decade, perhaps. The government had decided that the work of the plant had been bad for the environment, so it had been closed and people who had lived here (mostly those who had worked in the plant) had long moved. Consequently, the infrastructure here was abandoned and the empty streets of this very little part of the town looked dead.

     No calling for help then. Just running; once he would have an opportunity. Loki had a very bad feeling, but he wasn't going to panic.

"Stop here," Stefán suddenly said. Karl stopped the car near the entrance of some building.

"Looks like you know this place," Hilmar remarked, addressing to Stefán.

"Yes, I've been here a few times. An interesting place to explore," the auburn-haired youth replied almost proudly.

"Creepy though," Hilmar added quietly, looking around.

"Come on, let's show Loki around," Stefán grinned.

     They got out of the car. Loki wasn't fighting when Stefán opened the door, took him by his arm and pulled him out of the car without forcing.

"This, Loki, is a hospital. Or rather it **was** one," he said, leading the dark-haired youth to the entrance doors, shabby, like everything else here. But before he had a chance to say anything else, Loki tore himself away and broke into a run. Unfortunately, the rising panic hadn't let him calculate his escape more thoroughly, so he practically ran into Karl, whose strong hands of a fighter immediately grabbed Loki by his slender shoulders.

"No, no, Loki, I'm afraid you're going inside," Stefán murmured and together with Karl started pushing the panicked boy to the doors.

"No, please..." Loki whispered, now really starting to get scared. They were on each side of him, holding his arms, and he knew he was helpless, because they were physically too strong for him. The doors were easily opened and Loki was pulled inside, despite his protests.

     The neglected building was shabby inside. It looked old, but not too dilapidated yet, despite the cracked, discoloured, faded walls that had once been baby blue, perhaps. It looked very empty, though there were some left pieces of furniture here and there, as well as the information and direction signs, everything dusty and shabby. The old, dirty windows didn't let much light in, but it wasn't too dark so far at this time of a day.

     Loki's heart was filled with trepidation. He was fighting weakly as they were dragging him along the corridor of the ground floor. How on earth had he allowed himself to be lured and fooled like that? He had got snared ridiculously easy; easier than a naive child lured by a stranger who offered sweets.

"Where are we going?" Karl enquired.

"You'll see soon," Stefán smirked mysteriously. Karl frowned, but said nothing in return. Hilmar was following them with his hands in the pockets of his coat, looking uncomfortable. He obviously didn't like what was going on, but remained quiet. Loki turned his panicked face to him a few times, wordlessly begging the younger boy for help. Each time Hilmar cast his eyes down or aside, making himself ignore the scared youth.

     By the time they reached the end of the corridor, Loki was openly pleading with them, knowing that something terrible was going to happen. Everything was even shabbier here; in a couple of places old wires were hanging from the ceiling. Stefán turned to the right, making the others follow, and opened the slightly dilapidated double door with the small round, dirty windows in each door. Behind those doors there were several steps down to the basement floor and a ramp, which had possibly been used for hospital trolleys.

     And it was dark...

"Hilmar, leave the doors open, or we won't see anything down there," Stefán said. Loki's heart sank in terror as he looked down, where the short, windowless corridor was. There were three or four doors down there and Loki was almost certain that the rooms behind those doors had no windows, either; therefore they were as dark as tombs. The very thought immediately triggered the panic attack, Loki's chest tightened almost painfully and he felt cold sweat standing out on the back of his head, neck and back.

"No, no... No, please! No!" he begged, starting to fight with all the strength he possessed as they'd started to pull him downstairs; the fear set his mind aflame. In panic he managed to grasp the door jamb, and it took Stefán a few moments to detach his hand from it. Crying out, fighting and writhing Loki was dragged downstairs, looking very much like he was been led to his execution; and he was impossibly pale. They stopped in the small corridor.

"Are you sure it's a good idea? Even I don't feel okay here," Karl admitted, looking around. As he was holding Loki still, he felt that the smaller boy was shaking so violently that it didn't feel normal. The terror was seemingly choking Loki.

"We'll just leave him here for an hour or two," Stefán replied dismissively. And then he looked at Loki, who was hyperventilating by now and shaking his head 'no' fervently, because his voice felt trapped inside his throat, so he couldn't beg verbally. And when he tried, only a choked sob escaped him. "You know what it is, Loki?" Stefán asked him calmly, without expecting an answer. "It was a morgue, in case you didn't notice the sign outside." With that he opened one of the doors. The light from upstairs allowed them to almost distinctly see the large room with the floor and walls tiled with white (or not so white any longer) ceramic tiles; though in some places the tiles had fallen off, many others were just cracked. Several mortuary refrigerators along the walls were slightly corroded, as well as the sink in the remote corner. No other morgue equipment could be seen in the semi-darkness; quite possibly, nothing else had been left here. Even after all the years of being abandoned, there was a weak, odd smell in this room; a weak smell of death. Though it was very possible that Loki's disfigured from fear imagination was making it up, deceiving his senses. Phobias were not required to make anyone feel at least uneasy here. But for Loki it was so much worse. It couldn't be happening to him; just couldn't... They couldn't do this to him; they were just scaring him, bullying him. But they wouldn't throw him into the darkness of this more than just unpleasant place. Experiencing the feeling of unreality, he was feeling faint and weak. But, as soon as he found himself being almost softly pushed inside the room, he started resisting with the renewed vigour that seemed to have increased tenfold, as he was demonstrating the physical strength, very untypical of him or anyone with such a slender build. His muscles were contracting in spasms and he was shaking all over, ready to do just about anything in the world to avoid being pushed into the waiting, ominous den of darkness. Considering what kind of place the darkness had chosen to make it its residence, it was **far** worse than when it was invited by a power failure in your own home. To say that Loki was in panic was a strong understatement now.

"No, no, no! Anything but this! Anything! Oh, please, no!" he begged desperately, his voice breaking, humiliation forgotten. And then he screamed. Karl groaned in annoyance.

"Oh, look, our little princess is about to pee his panties!" Stefán chuckled. "Stop being a pussy. We're doing it for you. You're going to thank us later, you'll see," he mocked. Or did he seriously believe it? Hardly...

     And then Loki was forced inside by one strong push, at the same time compelled to let go of Karl's sleeve, which he had been holding like a lifeline. And the door was closed behind his back... He threw himself on it, trying to break out, unable to see anything at all, because the darkness was absolute. His heart was skipping beats otherwise beating so fast and hard that he could feel pulsation in his temples. It was madness, a total immersion into his terror. And he was screaming...

"Hold the door," Stefán told Karl. While the older youth was holding the door, Stefán, slightly grunting, moved the empty, but heavy cupboard that was right here in this corridor, to prop the door firmly closed. Loki kept screaming and literally tearing at the door. The cupboard didn't move the slightest, no matter how hard the boy was trying to open the door, pushing at it with his entire body, and Stefán nodded satisfied with his work.

"Shut up! Zombies will hear you!" he cackled. His companions, however, didn't find the joke entertaining. "All right, guys, let's go."

"Are you serious? You want to leave him here alone?" Karl asked, surprised.

"Yes, I do," Stefán shrugged. "We'll come back for him in a couple of hours."

"Am I your personal driver or something?" the older youth frowned.

"Oh, come on, you'll want to see the pussy's face when we let him out," the younger one chuckled.

"I'm not sure about that."

"Then we'll get here without you and save the princess. Right, Hilmar? Come on, let's go," Stefán said impatiently and went upstairs. Karl followed uncertainly. Hilmar, who was standing upstairs, holding Loki's black school shoulder bag and his mobile phone, looked even more doubtful. But he definitely wanted to get out of this place. He turned the phone off, put it into Loki's bag, quickly went downstairs and left the bag near the propped door, unsure of what else to do with it. Then he decided to quickly follow his companions, feeling very uncomfortable in this gloomy corridor. Loki's bloodcurdling screams of terror were following him, loud enough to be heard throughout this entire part of the first floor of the abandoned hospital. Loki was banging at the door, screaming blue murder, and Hilmar felt his skin crawling and his heart beating anxiously as he was hearing those terrified screams and cries. He quickly closed the double door that led to the mortuary behind himself and almost ran after his companions, still followed by the noises of terror and distress until he was halfway to the entrance doors of the hospital where the screams didn't reach.

     Now only the very dim, pale conical beams of light penetrated the darkness of the small corridor below the ground floor through the two small, round, dirty windows of the now closed double door; it was a very weak light that would soon disappear completely, due to the very short days at this time of a year. But Loki didn't have even this, trapped in complete, pitch darkness behind the windowless propped door that wouldn't give in, no matter how hard he tried to break out. Not even a tiny strip of light was getting into the room from under the door.

     Eventually, he screamed himself hoarse, and though tears kept streaming down his face, he could only emit loud, panicked breaths. He instinctively knew that those who had trapped him here were gone, leaving him alone, and the small part of his mind, the only part that could think at the moment, wasn't sure if they would come back for him, if anyone else would ever find him at all, if he would still be alive if they did. He couldn't take it, he just couldn't take it; it was too much...

     For some time his mind seemed to have shut down completely, which was some kind of a coping mechanism; and, becoming aware again, he found himself sitting on the floor, curled up and with his side pressed against the door (he was pretty sure he hadn't moved a decimetre away from it the entire time he'd spent here). His arms were tightly embracing his own body that was shivering, sometimes jerking slightly; nervously and involuntarily. He was aching even physically and begged for his mind to shut down again, to go numb, so he could stop being aware of everything at once.

 

 

 **4.** **The Bond**

 

     It was the third time Thor was ringing his brother. Loki had been supposed to come back from school more than two hours ago, but he hadn't, and his mobile phone was either turned off or was somehow out of coverage area, which Thor found odd, unless the battery of his brother's mobile had run out. This time the blond decided to leave the voice message, asking his little brother to ring him back as soon as possible, just in case he was wrong about the battery.

     He tried to concentrate on his homework (the penultimate year in High School was quite challenging ***** ), but his eyes, time and again, travelled towards the mobile phone on his bedside table, as if looking at it would make it start playing the classical piano tune, the one that always played when his brother rang him from his own mobile phone. Thor wasn't really worried, but Loki had promised to be home right after school. If he had any extra lessons or some other plans, he usually informed Thor or their parents about it; and since their parents were away, Thor was in charge. If Loki, for some reason, couldn't use his mobile phone, he used a land line phone in school.

     Almost two more hours later, Thor decided to drive to school, find Loki and give him a good scolding for suddenly deciding to be so irresponsible. It didn't look like the younger one's usual antics that could very-well be an attention-seeking behaviour. Thor had already rung to a couple of Loki's classmates and friends, but they had long come home and had no idea about any extra lessons, nor did they know about Loki's whereabouts. Thor was a little worried and a little angry. But his anger disappeared and the feeling of concern and uneasiness settled down in his heart as soon as he entered the school and the caretaker, who was busy cleaning the floor of the entrance hall, assured him that all the pupils had long left, and nobody matching Thor's description of Loki had been among those who had left later than the majority of the other people; at least, as far as the man could remember.

     Looking lost, Thor was sitting in his motionless car, thinking of where else he could try to search for his brother. Loki had a few friends, mostly his classmates, and the blond had already rung all of them; they knew nothing.

 

***

    

     Loki kept sitting at the door curled up, almost paralysed with fear. His mind refused to go numb, but he couldn't tell how much time he had already spent here. It felt like many hours. The tiniest noises of the old building sounded ominous in the hollow silence and made Loki curl up even tighter and stop breathing for several moments with his heart stuttering in his chest. He felt like he would never feel safe and sane again, even if he was let out immediately. If at first he couldn't stop screaming and crying, now he was afraid to make a sound; the irrational fear of someone or something hearing him and coming to him, attracted by any noises he made, was making him still and mute, like a piece of furniture. He absolutely didn't find it hard to ignore his limbs that were begging to be stretched and his entire body that wanted him to, at least, change its position. He didn't care about it. In order to find at least a tiny bit of comfort, he was trying to think about his family. He was sure Thor had already started looking for him...

     Another tiny noise of an unknown origin snapped him out of his thoughts, even though he hadn't been really immersed into them as his brain was constantly on the alert mode.

     Some more time of this mental torture had passed, and Loki's mind started to shut down again, becoming blank... before he suddenly heard footsteps. They were somewhere outside, but they weren't outside the door that Loki was pressing himself against, so he couldn't imagine where the sound was coming from. And when he heard the noise that resembled the sound of an opening door, the white-hot fear burned his exhausted mind, restarting it together with the panic. He heard the footsteps again, and this time they were right here, in this room, bothering some tiles that were no longer stuck to the floor, as far as the sound allowed to conclude. Loki's eyes widened and his heart sank. Someone was right here in this morgue, in this very room... His hair stood on end and all the blood seemed to be rushing away from his head very fast, almost making him faint. It nearly made him fail to hear the quiet metallic squeak and something that resembled a faint splash of water. For several moments he could hear the rolling noises that probably belonged to some old pipes inside the walls. There were more footsteps... and breathing, slightly wheezing.

     But when all noises had stopped all of a sudden, Loki wasn't fooled. _It_ was there. He knew it, he felt it. _It_ had somehow entered the morgue, feeling the presence of a victim. He failed to hold back a loud sob that escaped him before he knew it, and his heart nearly stopped in terror. There was some brief fussing in the darkness, but then it became unbearably silent, and Loki instinctively knew that _it_ was watching him. If _it_ hadn't seen him before, for some miraculous reason, he had definitely given himself away now. Now that there was no point in holding back any longer, he started weeping openly; his brain was only faintly registering the feeling of tears running down his face, though, because all senses were overshadowed by the acute, cold, insane dread that was eating him alive. Maybe people who were about to be killed (who knew that they were about to be killed) felt something similar to what he was feeling right now.

     The footsteps were approaching, and Loki started to hyperventilate. No, no, no! He didn't want to hear it, he didn't want! He firmly pressed his hands against his ears, closed his eyes (which didn't make any difference in this pitch darkness) and started rocking back and forth. _'It's not real... It'snotreal... It'snotrealit'snotrealit'snotreal...'_   But even with his ears being closed he heard some muffled click and through the thin skin of his eyelids he saw some flash of light. But he kept sobbing with his eyes and ears firmly closed. There was some light, but not the type of light that would've made his terror go away. It looked evil and red through his eyelids, so he shut his eyes even tighter. What if the denial would make it all go away? It couldn't be real, after all. But then... _it_ touched his cheek with its cold hand and Loki went rigid in terror. No sobs escaped him any longer, because even breathing seemed impossible. _It_ had never touched him before, he had never felt _its_ presence **this** close...  
  
     _It_ smelled like something burning. He could hear _its_ disgusting laboured, wheezing breathing. _It_ touched him again, caressing his face and then his hair and shoulder. He was stiff under _its_ exploring hand, but his body was sometimes flinching involuntarily. He could feel _it_ inhaling the smell of his hair; _its_ hand found a way inside his coat in the front and _it_ was touching his chest, though the fact that Loki was so tightly curled up didn't make _it_ enough room for a further exploration. When the touching stopped for possibly a couple of minutes, Loki knew _it_ was watching him, but he couldn't make himself open his eyes, in case he would **somehow** be able to see _it_ , which he knew he wouldn't be able to endure. He was just sitting there with his eyes closed, hyperventilating and feeling that he was probably having the last few moments of his life.

     When _it_ put him onto the very cold floor, he was hardly even realising what was going on, lying on his side, still curled up defensively. _It_ was touching him again, now even more intimately. His brain started working somewhat properly at some moment and he realised that he was no longer wearing his coat, and his shirt was unbuttoned. The cold hands were touching his naked skin and were trying to uncurl his body. He tried to protest, but _it_ was stronger. His mind once again went blank for enough time for _it_ to undress him completely and resume _its_ explorations. When Loki became aware of what was going on, panic made him start writhing and desperately moving away from the unwanted touching. And then he accidentally saw _it_ ; and it was something he never would have wanted to see in his life. _It_ had one single eye in the middle of its face, the eye was small and orange, glowing in the dark, and its glowing allowed Loki to very faintly see that it was surrounded by the grey, misty face, very slightly illuminated by the orange-red light of the eye. Loki closed his eyes shut in an unimaginable terror, his body shaking with loud sobs. The monster existed and _it_ seemed to be much more material than Loki had ever imagined. All the assurances of the doctors, all the assurances of his own logical mind, that the darkness, which he was so terrified of, was uninhabited, all of it had been a cruel mistake. It **was** inhabited... And it was so real that he absolutely wasn't ready for such kind of reality.

     The creature leaned down to him and licked his face, then his neck. The cold of the room was unkind to the wet skin exposed to it. The monster's hands were pawing at him hungrily, sometimes stopping and pinching him, making him whimper or cry out in pain. _It_ licked Loki's tense stomach and sucked on the smooth, pale skin. _It_ was touching, licking, pinching and smelling him all over, like a hungry beast _it_ was, making Loki try to recoil from everything _it_ was doing to him. He never stopped sobbing. When _it_ opened his legs and moved his knees up to his chest, he was startled by the dark, satisfied groan _it_ emitted as _its_ wet tongue slid between his buttocks. He couldn't tell what distressed and disgusted him more: the sound or the action itself, but he didn't care, because _its_ intentions were becoming clearer and clearer with each passing second.

     Before he knew it, he was turned onto his stomach, the cold of the floor was almost shocking against his skin, and the creature sat down on his thighs. He felt its wet member starting to press into him. That broke his stupor somewhat, and he tried to move away. The sudden hit on the back of his head deafened him and made his forehead collide with the hard, cold floor. The creature used the moment of his shock to penetrate him. He whimpered in pain, too shocked to scream. The agony shot through his spine; his strained limbs were shaking uselessly.

     The creature was mocking him. His ears felt stuffed from shock, but he could hear _it_ mocking him, even though he didn't understand _its_ demonic language. _Its_ muffled, low, guttural voice sounded triumphant. The monster was delighted. Of course, _it_ was... _It_ had got Loki now. All these years of escaping _it_ , and now _it_ had got what _it_ wanted, though in his worst nightmares he couldn't have imagined that _it_ wanted **this**.

     As _it_ started thrusting into him, Loki was in so much pain, he thought he was being torn apart. Moments of light-headedness alternated with moments of agonising awareness when he in full measure was feeling _it_ raping him, fucking his naked body into the hard, cold, tiled floor, taking his innocence, sanity, and probably even his soul, away. His body was out of his control; he heard himself emitting cries of pain, felt tears running down his face; but, at the same time, he was almost resigned. He was soon to be dead, he was sure about it, and he almost wanted it to happen sooner.

     When the monster finally came inside him and pulled out, growling contentedly, Loki was lying without moving; his used, hurt body was still shivering, though. Semiconscious and mentally overloaded, he wasn't sure how much time had passed before the creature started touching him again. Out of the corner of his vision Loki saw _its_ glowing orange eye again and closed his eyes, unable to look at the creature any longer. Once again _it_ smelled like burning. _Its_ hand moved along the youth's slender body. And then Loki suddenly screamed, startling himself. His mind wasn't following until he felt the hot, excruciating pain in the small of his back. The creature burned him and perhaps the white-hot iron felt the same way against skin. The monster wasn't going to just kill him, no; _it_ was going to torture him first.

     The following nightmare seemed to have lasted for hours, Loki couldn't tell. Holding him down, the creature pinched and burned him again and again, making the shrieks and screams tear out of him; and though his stuffed ears muffled everything, he could hear his own noises of terror and agony reverberating from the cold walls of the abandoned morgue. When his throat was too sore to produce any more sounds, except for some quiet wailing, the monster stopped the torture, just to inflict the other one: _it_ entered him again, for a few moments making the already hurt body become stiff like a statue.

     Eventually, Loki unconsciously managed to detach himself from his own body, at least for the most part, letting the creature finish with him before _it_ would kill him; not that he had a choice. _'I'm sorry, Thor... I'm not going to Denmark with you to see how you win the competition...'_ Tears once again escaped his eyes, but he wasn't aware of them.

 

***

 

     Thor, desperate and seriously worried now, was driving about the town, often stopping to ask chance passers-by if they had seen Loki, describing his brother or just showing Loki's picture that he had in his mobile phone. People just shook their heads, looking at worried Thor with genuine sympathy. Only one woman said that she had seen someone who resembled Loki in the small park not far away. But when Thor got there, he saw the stranger, who didn't have much in common with his Loki, except for the hair colour and the dark-grey coat. The young man was happily chit-chatting with his friends. Thor sighed. He was considering ringing their parents, but what could they possibly do from a remote continent? He would only make them worry, nothing more. Once again, he rang home, hoping that Loki was there, but nobody answered.

     When he was back in his car, his phone suddenly started ringing and he nervously answered the call without even looking at the display.

"Loki!"

"Umm... Thor... It's Sif," the confused female voice replied.

"Hi, Sif..." he muttered, failing to hide his disappointment. In any other situation he would've been glad to hear her, but he'd expected his brother to ring him and tell him that everything was fine.

"What's wrong?" the young woman asked, now worried, too.

"I can't find Loki. He should've been home long ago. No one knows where he is and his phone is off..."

     He explained the situation. Mostly he just wanted to share the burden of his heart with a friend; and she was a good friend. Being a good friend, however, she decided that listening to him wasn't enough. She asked him where he was, told him not to go anywhere and ended the call without explaining herself.

     About fifteen minutes later Gunnar, Sif's father, arrived there, driving his police car. Thor had thought it was a little too early to call the police, but he gladly accepted the help of the one who knew what to do; he was a sergeant, after all. Gunnar asked him several questions. He asked if Thor and Loki had argued, if there was a possibility that Loki was angry or upset with him. He asked about all possible places where Loki could've gone after school... There were a lot of questions, but the man was a professional, so Thor believed that everything that he was being asked was important.

     Gunnar took Thor with him, making the younger man leave his own car. They visited several Loki's classmates, but no one had any information about the missing boy. Sif rang Thor and her father several times to enquire about their progress, but they had nothing to tell her so far.

 

***

 

     Loki knew that the creature was almost done with him now. _It_ had won. The boy's head was hit against the hard floor and severe pain shot through his skull. He knew he was wailing, but he could no longer hear himself. The ringing silence was the only thing he could hear now. He felt nauseous, his insides churned in panic at the thought that his short life was about to be taken from him. It was not an end anyone would've pictured for them. Even mentally resigned to forthcoming death, no one could deceive the instinct for survival. _'No, no, no! I can't die! Please, I don't want... Mum...'_ The next hit of his head against the floor interrupted his blurred and chaotic thoughts, and the pain was gone at once... If there was a grain of awareness left in him for a few more moments, he would've been thankful that his torture was over and he could no longer feel anything at all.

 

***

 

     As they had left the house of one of Loki's classmates and headed back to the police car, Thor realised that everything was unnaturally quiet around him, so quiet that he couldn't hear his own breathing or footsteps. It was confusing. But then it was forgotten, and he stopped on his tracks as he suddenly saw his little brother standing on the pavement, about twelve metres away. At first Loki almost didn't move at all, but then he smiled at Thor sadly. With his chest tightening almost painfully, the older brother weakly and tentatively smiled back at the pale, quite blurry figure. But before the blond young man had a chance to approach his little brother and say how worried he had been, embrace the lean body tightly, and maybe scold the boy a little, Loki disappeared with a blink of Thor's eye. The blond blinked several more times to make sure it had been only a vision, and he knew that it had really been nothing but one; a hallucination that was just a product of the strong emotional attachment Thor felt towards Loki; just a product of his worried mind. But, unconsciously, Thor pressed a hand to his anxious heart, his breath hitched in his chest. There, in his heart, something was torn, and he felt that something terrible had happened to Loki.

     Gunnar distracted Thor, putting a hand on the younger man's shoulder and asking if he was well. Thor, who could hear again almost normally, nodded automatically, though he didn't mean it at all. Only when he was in the car he realised that his entire body was shaking violently, as if he was having a severe fever. He felt cold and alone. It hurt, but he didn't know where exactly it hurt. The older man suggested him to go home and calm down while the policeman was doing his job, but Thor decidedly refused.

     He would've given anything for a proof that his heart was wrong and Loki was fine, but deep inside he already knew that things would no longer be the same.

 

* * *

  _* In Iceland young people usually finish High School in twenty or so. Thor is almost nineteen._

* * *

 

 

 

**5\. The Ordeal Of Thor**

     Karl and Stefán were playing video games in Hilmar's house, since the younger boy's parents were coming home from work pretty late and didn't 'ruin the fun'. Stefán was suddenly distracted from the game and looked in the direction of the window. It looked like it was already a very late evening.

"Oh, fuck... What time is it, guys!" he gasped, suddenly realising that they had probably been here for a much longer time than planned, almost forgetting about Loki, plunged too deep into the virtual world. Hilmar hadn't forgotten, but he'd been keeping quiet and barely said a word after what they had done.

"Thor must have already rung the police," Karl assumed quietly.

"Let's go get his brother out and drive him home. I don't want any trouble," Stefán said, getting up.

"No. I told you I'm not your personal driver," the older youth said. "It was your idea, so you go clean your own mess. I'm going home."

"No, you can't!"

"I can and this is exactly what I'm going to do right now."

"Maybe you're just scared to go there now that it's dark, huh? Maybe we should've locked you up together with him for that... 'exposure therapy'?" Stefán spat, really agitated now.

"I'd like to see you try," Karl chuckled, unaffected.

 

     While the older youths were arguing, Hilmar couldn't take it any longer. The three of them had done a terrible thing, and now nobody wanted go there to let Loki out. And Hilmar, too, didn't want to come back to that abandoned part of the town, especially now that it was dark and the streets in that part, most likely, weren't powered. But he knew he would never forgive himself if they left Loki there for any longer, especially for the entire night. It had already gone too far. He couldn't believe how he had ever agreed to take part in anything like that.

     Even though Thor and he weren't friends and didn't talk to each other often, Thor was always so good to him, despite being an older and much more experienced fighter. And Hilmar had repaid him by hurting his little brother, after allowing Stefán to convince him that Loki was a bad influence on Thor and had had to be taught a lesson for 'ruining' their 'chances of victory'. How had he allowed himself to believe in such nonsense? And even though he'd had doubts, a lot of them, actually, he had taken part in something very cruel and unjustifiable. It hadn't been planned. Stefán had said that they would just talk to him, but they had ended up... For fuck's sake, they had locked Loki up in a **dark morgue** , all alone! And Hilmar was a part of it.

     He left the room where the other two were still arguing, took his mobile phone and started searching for Odinson's number in the list; his hands were shaking nervously. He was sure he had Thor's number... Their trainer had once asked Hilmar to ring or text everyone from their club and inform them that their training session that day started later than usual, due to the setting of some new equipment. Hilmar had used his own mobile phone back then and he was sure he had put everyone into his list of phone numbers, just in case...

     He sighed in relief when he found Thor's number. It wasn't the best time for composing a long, careful message, so his text message was simple: _'I know where Loki is. Please come to my house I'll explain everything. Sorry.'_ He also sent his address, knowing that Thor, most likely, wouldn't even have an idea who had sent him this message.

     About five minutes later Karl stormed out to get in his car and drive home. Stefán was following him, loudly calling him quite unflattering names; the older young man simply told him to fuck off. Hilmar, who had said nothing about his message, went outside, too, waiting for Odinson to arrive. He didn't have to wait long. Karl had almost reached his car when the police car stopped near them. Karl and Stefán froze, knowing that they were in trouble. Hilmar, on the other hand, approached almost calmly.

 

***

 

     Gunnar and Thor quickly got out of the car. The policeman gestured the blond young man to not interfere, even though panic was evident on Thor's face.

"Good evening, young men. We're looking for Loki, Thor's brother. Have you seen him today?" Gunnar asked calmly.

"No, we haven't," Stefán replied, either lying in panic (though he looked pretty calm), or still stubbornly determined to let Loki out and get him home, quietly, without involving anybody else, possibly hoping to earn some kind of redemption by doing it (or persuade Loki to keep quite about what had happened; threaten him into it, if necessary), so he, Stefán, wouldn't be in so much trouble.

"You're lying," Gunnar said firmly and almost unemotionally a few moments later, looking at him searchingly. "Where's the boy? What have you done to him?"

"Hilmar, were you the one who sent me that message?" Thor asked the sandy blond-haired youth.

"Yes," the fourteen years old boy answered. Stefán glared at him.

     But Hilmar ignored him and told the entire truth. Thor's face lost its colour and he reeled when he'd heard what had been done to Loki.

"You... You've left him there alone..." he whispered, appalled. The next moment Sif's father was dragging him away from Stefán. Thor looked like he was going to kill him. Stefán seemed intimidated now.

"Stop it," Gunnar said with the voice that didn't allow any disobedience. "And you," he looked at all the three youths, responsible for what had happened, especially at the older two. "Are in trouble. Now get in the car; all of you," he commanded. Everyone complied, but, sitting down in the front seat, Thor was still looking at Stefán and Karl murderously. They, however, couldn't even look back at him. But Thor's rage quickly subsided for the time being as he was thinking about his little brother all alone in the darkness of the abandoned mortuary. And Thor was scared. He was scared of what had already become of his Loki who had spent such a long time face to face with his phobia. His heart hurt.

 

     Without delay the policeman was soon driving in the direction of the abandoned part of the town.

"He... He might have escaped," Stefán suddenly said.

"Escaped? How?" Karl frowned at him in disbelief.

"There's another door in the room where we've locked him up. It's... near one of the refrigerators, so I guess none of you have noticed it. It was too dark there to see it, and it was closed. There's another corridor behind it. It leads right to the fire exit. The doors aren't locked."

"I really doubt he's found it," Karl sighed. The others silently agreed with him. Loki would've hardly ventured to explore the dark room.

 

     The abandoned part of the town wasn't illuminated at all. It was quiet and dead. As they only had the light of the headlights and a couple of electric torches inside the car, it took a little more time than planned for Stefán to show where exactly the abandoned hospital was situated. When they stopped near the main entrance, Gunnar told the three youths to stay in the car and informed someone about the situation via police radio. He and Thor took both torches and went inside, after Stefán had explained where the morgue was.

     Knowing how deep Loki's fear of the dark ran, Thor couldn't imagine what this place had already done to him. The darkness inside was impenetrable; and it was only a corridor of the ground floor. All he wanted was grabbing Loki with his both strong arms, carry him to the light, comfort him and keep holding him to never let go again. It spurred him on and he moved faster. He needed to get Loki out of here as soon as possible. His heart was heavy in his chest, but now there was a hope that all of it would be over soon.

     Gunnar opened the double door with two round windows and together, he and Thor, went downstairs. The younger man's heart started beating even faster as he saw Loki's black shoulder bag on the floor.

"Loki! Don't be afraid. It's me; Thor. I'm coming in," he warned nervously, hoping to avoid giving Loki an additional reason to get scared of the noises he would inevitably make. There was no answer. Before Gunnar said anything, the blond quickly and almost easily moved the heavy cupboard away from the door and opened it.

"Loki, it's just me. It's just me. I'm here," he said softly and hastily, and entered. He couldn't tell if it was an illusion or not, but for a brief moment his nostrils were filled with the cold stench of death. Not that he knew how it really smelled, but his brain, for some reason, decided that this was exactly what it smelled like. Before he started thinking about it consciously, the smell was almost gone, even though the air in the room was unpleasant. Plus, there was a weak smell of burning; of smoke. The round of light, created by his torch, was sliding along the shabby walls with the fallen off, cracked or almost untouched by time white tiles. The torch allowed him to see that second door that Stefán had mentioned. It was right near one of the morgue refrigerators and it was currently ajar.

"Loki..." Thor almost whispered, looking around. An optimistic thought crossed his mind: what if Loki had found this door and got out of here while it still hadn't been too dark outside? What if he was already home, shaken up, but safe?

"Thor..." Gunnar's voice deprived him of that hope. It was calm, but grave. As the blond young man looked down at the place where the light of the policeman's torch was directed, he became weak in the knees.

     At first he saw some blood. There wasn't much, though, but it was right near his feet. As his eyes travelled further, they saw the side of the deathly pale face, almost as white-grey as the tiles under it. The face was almost entirely covered by the dishevelled, black hair and blood, mostly dried. The pale, naked body was lying on the floor motionless, almost entirely on its stomach. The lower back and buttocks were covered by some almost black, small round spots, surrounded by the inflamed, rose-pink skin. The same single mark was between the shoulder blades of this pale, slender body that was partly lying on the scattered clothes, including the familiar dark-grey coat and other things, he'd certainly seen before.

     Thor felt like falling on the floor as he couldn't remember himself feeling any weaker than he was feeling at the moment. No... It couldn't be Loki... It couldn't be. Anyone but Loki. It was someone else, some very unfortunate person. Loki had found the door and escaped, that was why it was ajar. He was home, surrounded by the bright light, waiting for Thor to come home and comfort him. This body on the floor wasn't Loki's...

     The blond young man couldn't breathe. All of it couldn't be real, it was a nightmare and he wanted to wake up. Gunnar quickly approached and kneeled near the body. He carefully touched the side of the pale neck with his fingertips.

"He's alive. The pulse is weak, but he's alive," the man assured. He immediately used his radio to call for reinforcements (because it was obvious that the crime had taken place here) and an ambulance. Meanwhile, Thor's mind partially accepted the fact that it was his little brother, lying on the floor hurt and unconscious. His only impulse was getting the boy out of here. He took his own coat off, covered the naked body, carefully wrapped it up into the coat and picked it up easily.

"Wait," Gunnar tried to stop him, but Thor couldn't pay attention to anything else other than taking his little brother as far from this place as possible. It was a foul place, Loki didn't belong here... The policeman didn't try to stop him again, but Thor had left his torch behind and would possibly get lost in the dark corridor, so the older man was following him for some time, illuminating the way, and came back to the crime area as soon as he'd made sure Thor had safely left the building.

      The headlights of the police car let the other youths, who were standing near the car that was the only source of light here, see Thor coming out of the hospital with the naked, motionless body in his arms; naked, except for the coat wrapped around the middle of it. Everyone was shocked, realising whose body Thor was carrying. Everyone could distinctly see the blood.

"What have you done?!" Thor roared so loudly that it seemed that the earth itself shook under their feet. None of the three boys could move; all three of them were unnaturally pale. Hilmar pressed his hands to his mouth; tears were running down his face.

     Thor carefully put Loki on the bonnet of the police car, still pressing the precious body against his chest, hoping to warm it with his own warmth. Loki was so cold... Thor carefully moved the black strands away from the pale face, covered with dried blood. Loki's injured head was resting in the crook of his older brother's elbow. The head injury looked like it was no longer bleeding or was bleeding very slightly. The blond knew he would've given his own health right now to heal his baby brother.

     He hardly noticed Gunnar approaching with a first aid kit. Without bothering Thor, the older man once again checked Loki's pulse, carefully treated the head injury on the side of the unconscious boy's forehead with the antiseptic fluid and cleaned the dried blood off the deathly pale face as best as he could.

 

     Thor saw the blue emergency lights approaching, he saw the word 'sjúkrabíll' ***** glowing faintly. The word remained branded in his mind for a couple of minutes, and he could see it even when his eyes were closed, which only contributed to the feeling that everything was unreal.

     He was carefully coaxed to let go of Loki to let the medics take care of the hurt youth, but the blond absolutely refused to leave his younger brother's side, so he was allowed to get into the ambulance. Very soon they were heading to hospital. Thor watched them checking Loki's blood pressure and temperature, his pulse and reflexes. One of the medics used the stethoscope to listen to the unconscious boy's heart and lungs. They made sure he had no internal bleedings or obviously broken bones.

     Mostly, Thor could only nod or shake his head as he was being asked questions; for example, if Loki had any allergies; and other medical details. He couldn't take his eyes off his little brother, whose nose and mouth were now covered with an oxygen mask. The blond tried to spot the slightest movements of the boy's pupils under his eyelids, but he saw none. His hand reached out to caress the side of the pale face and the uninjured part of his brother's head. Among the black hair he found a couple of grey strands, and his heart sank even deeper. He closed his eyes and took the pale, cold hand in his bigger, darker and warmer two, rubbing it gently to share his warmth.

 

     As they arrived to hospital, once again, it took some efforts to convince Thor to let go of Loki and leave the younger boy in the care of the doctors for some time. He didn't know how much time he had spent in the corridor before he was approached by one of the doctors, who said that Loki's life was in no danger. It was a good thing to hear. But when he asked to let him see his brother, he was told that he couldn't see him right away, but they had almost finished collecting the medical evidence for the police investigation and treating the injuries, so he would be able to see Loki once they were done.

"What happened to him?" the blond almost whispered. Only now that the shock was letting him go, it occurred to him that someone had done this to his little brother, someone had attacked, undressed and hurt him deliberately. His mind reeled at the thought. Loki had been lying on the floor of the mortuary naked... Thor felt like he was stabbed in his stomach at the frightening suspicions that crossed his mind, and he wanted to shoo them away like annoying insects. But he faintly remembered the small amount of dried blood on Loki's buttocks... He really wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Please, sit down," the aging doctor told him. The younger man complied automatically. "I'm truly sorry that I have to deliver such news, but your brother was raped."

"No..." Thor closed his eyes tight in grief and pain, and shook his head in denial. He felt the pressure of tears, and the feeling of helpless misery was overwhelming.

     The doctor gave him some time to recover a little and was staying with him as a silent support, in case the younger man had questions or just wanted to talk. After what seemed like a couple of minutes, Thor opened his mouth, his lips trembling and a quiet sob escaped him.

"Those marks on his skin..." he said, hardly recognising his own voice.

"The cigarette burns," the doctor replied quietly and carefully. Thor shook his head again.

"What else?.."

"He has a concussion. Physically, he's going to be fine in a couple of weeks or so, though the burns will probably take a bit longer to heal," the doctor explained, almost emphasising the word 'physically'. _'But what about emotionally?'_ Thor wanted to ask, but decided against it. He remembered those two thin, grey strands among Loki's otherwise black hair and once again felt overwhelmed with grief.

 

     Soon Loki was put into an individual room, and Thor was finally allowed to see him. The IV drip was in the sleeping boy's arm; the injury on the side of his forehead was covered with a band-aid (the doctor had said they had put in a couple of stitches, even though the wound had been hardly bleeding by the time they had arrived to hospital) and his hair and skin had been properly cleaned of dried blood. Thor kneeled near the hospital bed and pressed his brother's palm against his own face. His body was shaking with sobs as he was soundlessly weeping into the pale hand that seemed almost weightless.

     His mind still couldn't accept what had happened. Loki had been subjected to something unthinkable; all alone, terrified and helpless, as he'd been raped and tortured... For how many hours the torture had lasted? What kind of a monster had done it to his little brother? Why? Why?!

 

* * *

_*'Sjúkrabíll' is an Icelandic word for 'Ambulance', written on ambulance cars. The letters are made of reflective material (just like in most other countries, I guess)._

* * *

 

 

 

**6\. Still Life**

     If anyone asked Thor to describe what he was feeling, he wouldn't be able to find words. Desperation, grief, helpless anger and pain: those words weren't enough. Since the time of their childhood Thor had been a protective brother; as an older one, he had often done his best to be Loki's rock and support (well, with some exceptions when Thor had been having his difficult age a few years ago). So how on earth had he failed to protect his little one from something this horrible?

     He stayed in hospital for the night. The kind nurse brought him a blanket, and he made himself comfortable in the armchair, after moving it to Loki's bed as close as possible. But sleep eluded him, and he kept looking at the face of his sleeping brother instead. To his shame Thor wasn't sure he wanted the boy to wake up any time soon. He wasn't sure he was strong enough right now to face his brother's sufferings.

     Eventually, his heavy, slightly swollen from crying, eyelids became too heavy to keep the eyes open, and Thor fell asleep.

     His brother's voice pierced his mind like a white-hot needle:

"Thor! Thor, help me! Thoooor!" Loki screamed desperately.

     Thor jerked awake violently, his limbs shuddered and were as tense as if he was about to run somewhere; somewhere where his little brother was crying out for him. Mentally, he was in his battle stance, ready to fight. But, as he was on his feet, slightly reeling after his sleep, he saw that there was no danger. It was a very early morning; he was in the same room with his still sleeping brother, who was showing no sign of distress at all so far. He hadn't even changed his position in his sleep. Slowly, Thor calmed down and touched the side of Loki's pale face. And then he leaned down and kissed the corner of the younger youth's mouth.

"I failed to keep you safe... I'm so sorry. But now I'll take care of you. I'd do anything for you," he murmured quietly into Loki's ear with his eyes closed.

 

***

 

     Loki's eyes opened almost in the afternoon, but he wasn't moving and his eyes, his face and his body language expressed nothing. Thor tried to talk to him, but not only he gained no response, but he also gained no reaction at all. The blond was very concerned about it. Because of this suspicious condition, later this day Loki was taken for X-ray to check his head once again. After that they took him for MRI to scan it even more thoroughly.

     Through the clear glass Thor was watching Loki brought into the next room and carefully put onto the table, attached to the scanner. To make sure he would remain still, they strapped down his body, dressed in a thin hospital gown that reached his knees. In case Loki could recognise speech, one of the doctors told him that he had to lie perfectly still, and explained some things about the forthcoming procedure to keep the patient calm, just in case (really, could he be any calmer?). No reaction followed.

     Everyone else left the room and entered the one behind the glass, where Thor was waiting; the room was full of computers and other equipment. The blond pensively watched as the table, where his brother was lying, was sliding into the big tube of the machine. As the scans were being taken, Loki never once flinched, it seemed. Neither the noises that the scanner was making, nor being inside that tube affected him in any way, so strapping him down had been absolutely unnecessary. Thor pressed his forehead to the cold glass and closed his eyes. He had hoped that the procedure would unnerve Loki somewhat and make him react, but no such luck. Somewhere in the background of his tired and slightly hazy thoughts he could hear doctors discussing the scans. There were too many medical terms for him to understand anything, and he was tired, so very tired to concentrate.

     Later, when Loki was taken back to his ward, one of the doctors explained Thor that the scans didn't show any signs that his brother's brain was truly damaged, except for the regular concussion that absolutely couldn't be a reason for Loki's unresponsiveness; the neurologist was certain about it after examining the scans. And then doctors said that the boy was still too shocked and needed time, and they needed to do some more tests. By the look of their faces Thor knew that things weren't good at all.

 

     This very evening their parents came back, beyond themselves with worry. Thor felt guilty for being so shaken up that the thought of informing them about what had happened, hadn't even crossed his mind. It was Gunnar who had done it, and Frigga and Odin had returned as soon as they could.

 

***

 

     Nothing made Loki react. Father's calm assurances and even Mother's gentle touches and words of love and support remained fully ignored. It looked like the boy simply wasn't there. A few days later, however, he was getting up when urged to, so everyone was full of hope. But his eyes remained empty. If he ate at all, he ate slowly and clumsily when he was being fed, swallowing automatically when he could (because sometimes he couldn't), but it was very hard to feed him this way, and there was a chance he could choke on his food or drinks, so it was decided to feed him through a nasogastric tube. It made Thor flinch and cast his eyes away in dismay when he saw his brother being fed like that. Other than that, Loki did nothing. Thor had hoped for some progress, but there was none. It didn't even look like Loki understood when he was being talked to. Often, he looked absolutely catatonic. Nothing could snap him out of that state. Doctors once again checked him physically, especially his brain, but nothing indicated that the problem was caused by any physical damage. That was why they involved a psychiatrist.

 

     After two weeks in the mental institution (Thor was enraged when they had put his baby brother there, and it took a lot to convince him that it was for Loki's good; but even so, Thor spent most of his time with the catatonic boy) Loki was allowed to be taken home. The healing had brought no results so far, and they decided that it was probably better for him to be in a familiar environment, though several days per week a doctor visited to check Loki for any progress, and a nurse visited every day to help to take care of the boy and to administer his medication.

 

     Thor was depressed, because there was nothing he could do except for taking care of what was left of Loki, providing him some physical comfort, just like their parents did. The more time Loki was like this, the less hope Thor had for having his brother back, and he hated himself for unintentionally starting to give up.

     To make things even worse, the police hadn't made any progress in finding the sadistic rapist, whom Thor wanted to murder with his own hands. People in their quiet and safe town didn't really feel safe any longer. What had happened was unheard-of here. Everyone looked more vigilantly after their children. Thor loved their town, but he knew he would probably make sure Loki didn't come back in the same school (if his little brother would ever be able to study again at all). Thor wouldn't be able to allow anyone to whisper behind Loki's back or look at him with their unneeded pity or even just sympathy. That was how people often looked at Thor himself at present, but he paid them no attention, only waiting for his lessons to be over so he could come back home and see his brother, hoping to find anything, just anything, in the empty green eyes.

     It seemed that, in order to torment his broken heart even more, he was sometimes visited by dreams about Loki, where he could see emotions on his brother's face and where the younger man was smiling only for Thor.

 

     Sometimes Loki was getting up and walking, though he could stop in the middle of a room abruptly and stay like that before someone took him back to his room.

   One night Thor found him standing in the dark corridor, absolutely unaffected by the darkness, which was somehow very frightening. Fear of the dark had been a part of Loki's personality. Now that he didn't have even this, for Thor it was especially disheartening. His little brother should have been screaming his head off in terror or become paralysed with fear, hyperventilating. But there was nothing like that. Watching his brother relaxed and indifferent, whilst surrounded by the darkness, the blond really started losing his hopes and reluctantly admitted to himself that it wasn't Loki who lived (or rather just existed) with them, it was a hollow shell; just a body that didn't even react to any pain or stress consciously; there were only physical reactions. Thor was ready to endure anything: screams of terror in the dead of a night to soothe, tears to wipe away, a misplaced anger of a hurt person to take it as stoically as a rock, at least outwardly... But not this.

     As he could no longer watch Loki standing in the darkness, Thor gently took his brother's arm and led him back to his bedroom, finding no resistance at all. But it wasn't like what they'd had when they were younger and Loki had followed Thor anywhere and everywhere with his little hand in a hand of the older boy. It was nothing like that now that there was only Loki's body left of the amazing person... Thor helped him to lie down, spooned him up from behind, holding him with both arms, and spent a good half of the night sobbing into the younger one's shoulder and hair, feeling like he'd lost everything and could no longer go on with his life. He cried himself to sleep, refusing to let go of the hollow shell.

     He found himself in a dream, and it was both sad and pleasant one. He and Loki were sitting on a sofa, talking about something. It felt so good, so right. Thor couldn't stop smiling and Loki was smiling back. He was holding both smaller hands in his, and the younger of the two didn't mind. Thor couldn't even comprehend what exactly they were talking about, because the whole thing wasn't about words; their closeness was beyond any words. But then Loki's smile slowly faded away, and this time Thor could distinctly hear him.

"Thor... It doesn't let me go..." the younger of the two said sadly.

"What, Loki?" What doesn't let you go? Who? Tell me..." Thor begged desperately, feeling like he was losing Loki, even though he was still next to him, and it hurt.

"I love you so much," Loki whispered. His lower lip was trembling and his eyes became wet with tears. Just as Thor gently took the pale face in his hands, he woke up, weeping, his face tear-drenched. Loki's body was still in his arms and the younger youth was sleeping. Calming down, Thor kissed the back of the dark-haired head.

 

     After that night, in his dreams Thor either had moments of tenderness with Loki, or heard his brother desperately calling for help, like it had happened that first night in hospital. Loki was crying out for **him**. It was driving him insane even in his sleep, because he didn't know how to help and absolutely couldn't understand what was going on.

"I'm strong, I can fight; I've been taught well. I can take anything except losing you. I want to fight and get you back; I only need to know how. I need to know where to start. I'm strong..." he muttered to himself aloud, like a mantra, like a spell, half-asleep after one of those dreams. Talking to himself like this would've hardly made him proud of himself if he was fully awake.

 

 

 

 **7.** **Come Out At The Bell**

 

     Sif was very supportive. But, unlike many other women, and people in general, she deliberately avoided saying any words of comfort; she just wasn't good at it. Instead, she preferred to drag her best friend to the boxing club where they were boxing against each other until both of them were completely out of breath and sweat was streaming down their bruised bodies; sometimes they fought even longer than that. Usually, Sif dragged him there right after lessons (though they didn't study together) before the training sessions started officially, so there were only the two of them without anyone watching them. Of course, Thor was heavier and stronger, but her dexterity was remarkable and made her a dangerous opponent, not to mention that her muscular body could sustain pretty hard hits (and deliver them, too). She wouldn't have taken it well if Thor held back on her, he knew it very well, though he would never allow himself to hit her face on purpose.

     Sometimes she taunted him, made him furious, so he angrily bit down hard into his mouthguard and took his anger and pain out on her. She was just surfacing all his negative feelings that had settled down inside him like a lethal disease and made him give vent to them during their fights. Some would've said it was cruel of her to disturb him like this in his current state when he was suffering so terribly, but she would've just snorted at them in response. She didn't really believe in any psychoanalysis and psychotherapy, thinking that it was nothing but a waste of time. When people were getting something off their chest by talking, they were never entirely honest; they embellished things or held something back, leaving it deep inside to keep poisoning them.

     On a ring it was different, it was much more honest. Sif knew Thor was a fighter; it was in his heart, in his nature, therefore, he needed to fight, not chit-chat. Fighting made him feel less helpless, less powerless, less cornered. **This** was a medication, as Sif saw it, not some empty words said to or said by some idiot who was writing down god knew what in his or her notebook, making a clever face as if knowing what pain their client was carrying inside, when, in fact, they didn't know a fucking thing. Losing a mother when Sif had been little had taught her a thing or two about coping **properly** , in her opinion. There should be a strong, supportive person to try to keep up with, not a chatting and a pity of a stranger.

 

     Thor was like her in many ways; that was why she knew what he needed. Bruised forearms, shoulders and sometimes even faces didn't bother either of them. Sometimes he told her what he felt, and she was a good listener, but she never purposely made him talk. But, all in all, she knew he was far from being okay, even though more than a month had passed after the tragedy that had practically devastated him. She once saw him weeping quietly as he was watching a video in his mobile phone; it was some regular video with his brother in it, the video that Thor had filmed a couple of weeks before some scum had ruined their lives. In that video the brothers were arguing about something. Loki was grumbling and sounded rather moody, and then he demanded to stop filming him, obviously after realising that he had been filmed all that time. Thor was teasing him, saying that he would keep filming just to show Loki later what he looked like when he was pouting and snarling.

     Sif felt like an intruder, so she gave Thor his privacy, quietly leaving him alone.

 

     Stefán, Karl and Hilmar were avoiding Thor at all costs, and Thor was thankful for it, because he didn't know what he could do to them, at least to the older two, for unknowingly condemning his little brother to being brutalised and damaged this terribly. He felt nothing about Hilmar, thinking of him as no more than a foolish child, though. He knew that all three of them were really in trouble with their parents and the police kept a watchful eye on the boys now to discourage them from making any trouble in the future. Not that Thor cared much about it.

 

***

 

     Yule was rather quiet in their family this year, even though Frigga had invited a few relatives and a couple of friends of their family. When someone started discussing Loki, Thor started seething, even though they were saying nothing offensive. He just usually took it too personally when his brother was being discussed behind his back or right in Loki's presence, even though the younger youth never reacted and there was no progress in his mental state at all. But then one of the guests, Odin's foreign colleague, who probably thought himself very clever, 'helpfully' suggested (not that anyone had asked for his help or opinion) to send Loki away to some mental hospital in southern Europe, just because he'd once heard it was a good clinic; and he was also tactless enough to ask if they had tried to use electroconvulsive therapy, which, as he'd heard, was an effective method for treating such kind of mental disorders. Thor got up from the table so angrily and abruptly that he startled most of the guests; he took his brother's hand and led him away to his room, casting such a murderous glare at the 'helpful' guest that the man cringed. Loki followed obediently and emotionlessly, as usual. Thor had to leave before he did something that nobody would be happy about.

"I won't let anyone take you away from me. That moron... A retarded son of a whore! He can go fuck himself with his hospital and electroconvulsive therapy. Stupid prick..." Thor muttered irately, his protective arm was tightly wound around Loki as they reached his room. His choice of words usually wasn't this 'colourful', but Thor was livid. If anyone tried to take Loki from him and subject him to something that terrible, Thor would remove their limbs one by one! He lay down onto his bed and pulled his little brother closer, making him partially lie down onto Thor. The younger one's head was resting on the blond's chest right under his chin and Thor started to calm down very soon as he was lazily playing with the black (not including those two grey strands) hair.

"I miss you," he said sincerely.

     He watched his brother falling asleep with his head still on the muscular chest of the older youth. Thor himself felt like having some sleep. Celebrations weren't appealing to him this year anyway, so he didn't regret leaving.

 

     In his dream he saw the abandoned hospital where his little brother had been brutalised. But in Thor's dream it was calm. Basically, he was just exploring it aimlessly, his attention never stopped on anything as his legs were carrying him unhurriedly. The building was old and shabby, but nothing looked threatening, especially given that the day was almost bright outside. Instinctively, Thor knew that he wasn't here by accident, but he couldn't figure this feeling out. Several times he could swear he saw Loki far away in the endless corridors (why endless though? The building wasn't that big, was it?). Each time Loki was standing at a window, staring out of it. He was like a mirage in a desert; when Thor was approaching, his brother was gradually disappearing, and completely disappeared long before the older youth reached him.

     It was starting to become unsettling until Thor found himself on the first floor in front of the shabby double door with two round, small, dirty windows. Suddenly Thor felt such an unbearable fear that he stopped, feeling almost paralysed, finding it impossible to even try to open the doors. It was very odd of him to be **this** scared of anything, especially without seeing any reason for it. It was like he was feeling someone else's fear, not his own; like someone's terror had literally soaked into these doors, so the place was saturated with fear that was somehow palpable for someone who approached it (or was it like this just for him? Not that there was anybody else here to compare). Thor couldn't explain it, but he felt like he was betraying someone or something by not finding enough courage to open these doors.

     He woke up with a gasp, feeling cold sweat on the back of his neck. Loki was still sleeping on his chest, in his protective arms, just as he had been before the blond had fallen asleep. It was hardly the first strange dream he had seen recently. Actually, he'd already had many; most of them were uneventful and easily forgettable, but all of them left an odd feeling in Thor's heart. It sometimes exhausted him emotionally, and he felt tired and confused after awakening, feeling like he was missing something important. He always explained it with his feeling of helplessness that his subconsciousness manipulated to create strange situations in his dreams; but somehow he also knew that there was more than that.

     Or he was simply going insane, so it was best for him to stop paying any attention to those dreams when possible. On the other hand, in some of those dreams he could see his brother talking to him, smiling at him, just like before the day Loki had survived his worst nightmare.

     One night something had come over him in his dream and he leaned forward and kissed his younger brother's lips, like people kissed lovers, not brothers. Thor wanted to take everything from the younger man, whose emotions he could only enjoy in his dreams now; Thor wanted everything, even this. The kiss, however, was eagerly returned, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, akin to breathing. That night Thor woke up burning in shame and with sweet longing in his chest.

     He decided that he had to forget about the dream immediately, which he almost succeeded to do, because of the next dream this very night, in which Thor once again found himself wandering the hospital corridors. The same abandoned hospital, the same double door with the two round windows that always made him stop on his tracks. He had already had similar situations in his dreams several times, and each time he couldn't find heart to open the doors. The doors (or something behind them) were emitting fear, 'broadcasting' it, making Thor feel it clenching his heart. But this night he, for some reason, felt himself stronger and opened the doors, refusing to let anything make him feel weak; the fear itself wasn't even his own, he was sure of it.

     There wasn't something he'd expected to see behind these doors. Subconsciously, somehow he knew that there should've been several steps down and a small corridor with several doors. Instead, there was another endless corridor, however, it was dark and gloomy with no windows, unlike those he had seen in this dream hospital before.

     Thor woke up covered in cold sweat, even though nothing frightening had happened in his dream. He had a strong feeling that now he was closer to achieving something important. But all these dreams and the feelings they gave him, even when he was awake, were starting to seriously annoy him.

 

     But he kept seeing the same place again and again. It always started with exploring the upper floors of the abandoned hospital; sometimes the weather was sunny outside, sometimes it was dull, but, generally, the dream was almost the same. Each time he was walking unhurriedly, sometimes he opened the doors of random rooms, never finding anything in particular inside. But then he always ended up in front of the same double door on the first floor. Since the first time he'd opened it, he'd been opening it every time now to find himself in the same endless, dark corridor with some empty rooms that weren't really worth exploring. Sometimes he saw Loki there, but his brother always looked haunted and unhappy or thoughtful, and Thor never once had a chance to talk to him. Either he failed to reach him somehow, or Loki was walking away from him with his eyes cast down only to disappear behind some corner or a door to not be found again.

     Even in his sleep Thor many times wondered what he was doing there, why he was there, but there were no answers so far.

 

***

 

     In the beginning of February Thor was celebrating his nineteenth birthday in the circle of his closest friends, as Frigga had organised the small party for him. He couldn't ignore her efforts and later he was even glad that she had done it for him. He needed it.

     When Sif and he had some time alone, she was trying to convince him to change his mind about not taking part in the competition in Denmark; the competition that Thor had declined for an obvious reason. She suggested taking Loki with him and hiring a nurse that would be watching the younger boy when Thor was away. They used the help of nurses anyway, it was something they couldn't do without, actually, so it wouldn't be something to get used to. And Thor wouldn't be away too often and for too long, at any rate. Thor knew that Loki would've wanted him to take part and win, so, after considering it for some time, he agreed, to their trainer's relief when the man was informed about the decision of one of his best fighters the very same day Sif had managed to convince him.

"We're going to Denmark, Loki," Thor told his brother cheerfully, kneeling before the younger youth, who was sitting on a chair motionlessly, looking into the emptiness. The blond sighed and brought Loki's hand to his face to kiss it and to rub his short beard against it, like he sometimes did, secretly hoping that Loki could feel something deep inside his damaged mind.

 

     Thor hoped he was going to perform well enough, because he felt like he wasn't having enough sleep, and it bothered him. In his dreams about the abandoned hospital he kept ending up in the same dark corridor after wandering about the upper floors; everything was the same, but now he was having this particular dream more often than before, and now Loki almost always looked like he was hiding from something (or someone). It didn't look like he was even noticing Thor, who was trying to talk to him. The good, sweet dreams where he could talk to Loki, hear his voice, see his smiles were long gone.

     Thor hated how helpless he felt in his dreams. Sometimes he was dreaming about something else, but it was never clear, though it was always something troubling and unpleasant.

 

     He didn't entirely like the nurse they had hired to look after Loki during the trip, when Thor himself couldn't, and to take care of the boy and administer his (useless) medication, which Thor wouldn't be able to do anyway. Ingibjörg was a professional and she took a good care of his younger brother, Thor had a chance to see that it was really so, but it annoyed him that she often tended to talk to Loki like retards were usually being spoken to. For fuck's sake, he wasn't one! He didn't have any odd reactions that called for such treatment and for that irritating cooing; he hardly had any reactions at all, and even those that he had were hardly conscious. She was possibly used to taking care of mental patients that had something more than that. But she had been chosen by Frigga, and Thor had no reason to think that their Mother would've ever trusted her baby boy to the care of... just anyone.

     Ingibjörg was a blonde, about forty years old woman; slightly plump. She looked like a mother type, and she was rather caring, not only as a nurse, but as a person, too. Thor learned to trust her, more or less, and leave Loki alone with her while he was training before the competition.

     It hurt his heart that Loki wouldn't be able see his fights and support him.

 

***

 

     It was his second boxing match during the competition. The first fight he had won easily, and it had been a beautiful victory; Thor had knocked his opponent out in the end of the second round, overwhelming him with several powerful blows after finding a weak spot in the other fighter's defence.

"...I expect a good, clean fight. Protect yourself at all times. Now touch gloves and come out at the bell," the grey-haired referee instructed. "Good luck, young men," he added.

     The fight started rather lazily as both Thor and his Norwegian opponent were carefully studying each other's fighting techniques. This day of the competition had brought much more people to watch it than all the previous days. There were much more reporters, photoflashes... It looked like the interest to this particular competition of the young boxers was growing.

     Thor was good at what he did on a ring. First step was always filling the lungs with air, then start exhaling, making a half-hearted punch with his left hand to distract, and immediately a powerful punch with his right hand; an uppercut, a jab or a hook, if the competitor was not fully covering his head, or a good punch to the upper torso if the head was securely protected. And then he usually made a semi-crouch to once again fill his lungs, or a full crouch if he was attacked sooner than expected. When attacked, instead of evading, he preferred blocking and leaning back, and counterattacking at the very first opportunity.

     His current opponent was very strong, but Thor quickly discovered his lack of mobility. The problem was that the other young man was a southpaw, a left-handed boxer, which wasn't something Thor was really used to. Sometimes he found himself involuntarily opening his right side and becoming vulnerable as a result, because he simply was used to being hit from the other angles. His body stubbornly kept bracing itself for a hit from the familiar side and his eyes kept involuntarily watching the opponent's right hand, which was a mistake. Some angles of the Norwegian young man's attacks were really unexpected, and he knew how to take serious advantages of his left-handedness against a right-handed fighter, whereas Thor had to adjust to everything. This fight was a serious challenge from the start.

     As he was sitting in the corner, having a break after the first round, his cornerman pressed an ice bag against the right side of Thor's face, which felt sore, and the trainer was giving some helpful advices.

"Keep your front foot on the outside" the trainer instructed for what seemed like the tenth time, as Thor got up, once again ready to fight.

     The next round was pretty much the same. And it was quite exhausting. Once Thor knocked his opponent down with a good combination of the powerful hooks and jabs, but the other young man was on his feet again pretty soon.

     The third round started badly for Thor; he took a left cross to his face and it made his focus worse. In the middle of the round the opponent successfully delivered several powerful blows to his head, and Thor found himself sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the ropes, completely disoriented and unable to concentrate. He was knocked down and his eyesight was blurry. He could see the unclear blue spots which were the gloves, headgear and shorts of his opponent; he could also see the light-beige, which were the young man's face and his muscular torso. The very blurry figure of the referee appeared in front of him immediately and started counting, though Thor couldn't hear it properly; everything was muffled and his head was swimming and throbbing. Cheering and cries of support of the spectators turned into an annoying cacophony.

"One!" the referee said loudly. Thor wanted him to shut up. "Two!" he heard even more distantly. "Three..." was now heard even worse, as if Thor was submerging deeper and deeper into the metaphorical water. "Four..." was so far away that he wasn't sure if he'd really heard it or his brain had made it up automatically.

     When he opened his eyes and looked around he was almost shocked, seeing the familiar surroundings of the abandoned hospital. This time, instead of finding himself on the upper floors, he was right in front of that cursed shabby double door. The two round windows were glaring at him darkly and ominously. He knew immediately that something was seriously wrong. Almost uncertainly he entered the gloomy corridor. Everything was just the same here, except for the feeling of alertness that was much stronger now than ever before. Plus, everything felt more realistic than any dream he had ever seen before (though right now he couldn't tell if he was dreaming; he wasn't even thinking about it). It confused him. He was no longer wearing his red boxing equipment or shorts; instead, he was wearing some casual clothes (not that he really remembered about the boxing match that he had been taking part in seconds ago).

     He went down the corridor, unsure of what to do. One of the doors was ajar, so Thor entered the room, just as empty as most other rooms he'd seen here. There was another door inside and he opened it to enter the next room. He almost flinched, as he saw Loki standing on a chair near one of the shabby, cracked walls. Thor approached him carefully, afraid to startle his little brother and make him fall, even though Loki had almost never even looked like he was noticing Thor's presence, as if he couldn't see him or couldn't see him clearly enough to realise that it was Thor.

     As he was close enough, he saw that Loki was looking through a very small, rectangular window. There was no glass; the small window opening was only closed with the rusty wire netting. It was high above the floor, so only standing on the chair allowed Loki to reach it. Thor was immediately intrigued, wondering what the younger youth was looking at. He could see Loki's slightly frightened expression, but the green eyes kept looking at whatever was outside. Without making any sudden movements, Thor stepped up onto the chair, trying not to bother Loki too much. There was enough room for their four feet, and, to avoid any pushing, the blond stood behind the younger youth with one strong arm around the lean body. The calves of his muscular legs were pressed against the back of the chair, but the brothers managed to make enough room for themselves. Surprisingly, Loki had shifted forward because of it, without acknowledging the blond right behind him otherwise.

"What are you looking at?" the older of the two asked softly. He wanted to smile at finally being so close to his little brother, and he would've smiled if Loki's expression didn't look this troubled by something. With his own hand Thor covered the younger man's pale hand that was pressed against the wall right under the small window, and slightly leaned forward to see what was behind the rusty netting. An unpleasant cold was coming from outside the building together with the light waves of something that could be characterised as danger or just a bad feeling that any human usually had, knowing that something unpleasant was about to happen (though in those cases the feeling was usually based on something that indicated that the bad thing was about to happen); it was a trepidation. And it was coming in waves.

     It wasn't the first time Thor was 'sensing' emotions in this abandoned building. This deep empathy was like an additional sense he'd gained to his hearing, sight, smell, taste and touch. It was new, though, so it still often confused him and he just couldn't be sure he always interpreted it correctly. It was like that place in front of the double door where it was clear that something from behind it was 'broadcasting' the feeling of unspeakable fear and emotional trauma. And sometimes hurt and sadness were filling the air of the entire building, making Thor want to run to a source, whatever or whoever it was, and comfort it. He wouldn't be surprised if Loki was the source of all these emotions, and Thor himself was nothing but an empath.

     The air was cold, but somehow it wasn't fresh. Nothing in particular was behind the small window, nothing could be really seen, other than that the weather was dull and that the evening was approaching. It looked like there was nothing but an endless, empty space outside, but seemingly it really lacked depth for a large space. Plus, nothing was clear at all. Sometimes Thor noticed some grey smoke floating in the air, but he couldn't see what was producing it.

"What's going on, Loki?" the blond asked quietly. The younger one wasn't paying him any attention and kept looking outside. Very soon the smoke started thickening as if its source was approaching. Thor could suddenly smell that smoke, and he couldn't figure out why it was so familiar. The hospital was saturated with this smell, but he couldn't remember when he had sensed it **this** clearly; he just knew it had happened before.  
  
     And then he saw _it_... Some ugly, dark-grey figure outside. It was like _it_ had just slowly stood up from the ground clumsily. Loki gasped and pressed his back against Thor's chest, obviously terrified now. The blond, meanwhile, kept watching the odd figure. _It_ was tall, its back was stooped and its arms were longer than human arms, with the longer than human fingers; but it was hard to tell what its skin looked like (if _it_ had any), because it was obscured by the dark-grey smoke that reeked terribly. _It_ probably emitted that smoke from _its_ pores. The smoke was curling around the creature's entire body, mostly close to it, but it also created a grey, more transparent cloud around _it_.

     Suddenly, the creature became still, as if _it_ had started realising that _it_ was being watched. Thor felt all the hairs on his body standing on end. Becoming an object of the creature's attention, for some reason, felt like a death sentence. The cold became unbearable, worse than any chills during a severe flu. Maybe it was the cold that people felt whilst dying? The creature slowly started turning to the window. Loki panicked and fell on the floor together with Thor, upturning the chair in the process. With a muffled huff the blond hit the hard floor and saw how in blind panic the younger of the two started crawling away on his hands and knees before managing to stand up and run away as fast as his hyperventilation and stiffened muscles allowed him to.

     Thor felt the strong urge to cover his brother's escape by standing on the way of the monster. As he stood up and turned his face to the window, he could only see a lot of dark smoke at first, but somehow he knew that the creature was looking at him. Dumbfounded, Thor felt like he was suddenly thrown into the ice-cold water. The cold wasn't really physical, though... He managed to make several steps back, his eyes never left the thing. The creature no longer resembled an ugly human figure, _it_ was even uglier now; it looked like its neck and head were stretched out to the unthinkable extent and deformed, and _it_ was practically seeping into the room through the wire netting of the window, as if through a mincing machine. The creature's long, stooped body below the neck was probably still outside, though. The long, big, ugly thing inside the room was like a thick, disgusting appendage, like a huge, dark, writhing worm growing out of the wall, as _it_ was now completely obscuring the window. The smoky appendage was looming over Thor, 'looking' at him (though he couldn't see any eyes), and this alone was shocking.

     The thing was wheezing and the noise was repulsing. Suddenly the blond could distinctly see some small, round, thick orange dot among the smoke, somewhere on the ugly, extended head of the demonic creature. The dot was becoming brighter and brighter; more and more ominous. It was probably _its_ eye; Thor was almost sure that it was. The reek of smoke was choking now. The disturbing thing wasn't from the world of men; _it_ had obviously come from some other world. Perhaps, the bizarre creature had come straight from hell to prey on humans? It was real... Too real...

     Before Thor had a chance to think of how to escape his inevitable death, the dirty tiled floor disappeared from under his feet and he could no longer see and think, as well as he couldn't tell if he was falling or drowning for a few moments...

 

"Eight!" he suddenly heard. _'What? Eight what?'_ Thor's startled and confused mind tried to start working properly. "Nine!"

     Shock, and just a feeling that he had to, made him stand up on his feet. He was reeling, but forced himself to concentrate on his surroundings that looked... unexpected: the referee, the Norwegian southpaw, who was waiting for the declaration of his victory or for the fight to go on, the ring, a lot of spectators around, photographers and reporters. He was in the middle of his boxing match... Overcoming the dizziness and confusion, Thor looked back into the eyes of the referee, assuring that he was fine, though he wasn't really sure about it.

     Everything was so odd... He'd had a dream that in reality had lasted for some mere seconds, even though it had felt **much** longer than that. Just a grotesque dream... A vision. And now he was back to his almost comfortable reality.

     As much as his mind was still confused and shaken up, he was in the middle of a fight, so he decided to forget about the strange things for the time being and save them for later consideration.

     Nevertheless, he had spent most of the long, tiring fight slightly light-headed. It was the worst performance he'd ever had in his life, and one of the most exhausting; in the end he was feeling like he had been fighting for days. The victory was miraculous, only because he'd somehow managed to get a bit more points than his opponent. Thor wasn't feeling that the victory was even deserved at all. But he was too exhausted to care, though, mentally, he managed to half-heartedly curse all the left-handed people in the world as he was leaving to the dressing room, ignoring those who wanted to take an interview, leaving them to his trainer. Great... Now people would probably start thinking that he was a presumptuous boor, not even famous enough to be this big-headed. He'd deal with it later somehow... Or not.

   He spat out his mouthguard absent-mindedly. He could only think about a shower right now, a hot one, but his red equipment was a challenge to remove from his unusually tired body. His gloves, headgear, high boxing boots that he had to unlace, of course, and the gauze of which his hand wraps were made; all of it seemed to had never taken this long to take off before.

     When the pleasantly hot water finally ran down his naked body, strong, but sore, it felt like heaven and Thor groaned in relief.

     His trainer was supportive, assuring him that he hadn't been bad at all, considering that he had been fighting a southpaw, which was always a pain in the neck, even for much more experienced fighters. Thor felt better after his words, but all he really wanted now was going back to the hotel. And rest... Unfortunately, he wasn't allowed to leave before the doctors examined him, making sure he hadn't taken any serious damage during today's challenging fight. They gave him a couple of pills to make his head stop aching and throbbong, and took care of some small abrasions on his face that weren't really troubling him. After that Thor's team-mates invited him for a dinner to celebrate, but he wasn't hungry; actually, he felt too tired to eat or celebrate.

 

"Good evening, Ingibjörg," he greeted the nurse, as soon as he entered his hotel room.

"Hi, Thor!" the woman smiled. "How did it go? Have you beaten up another poor boy?"

"Not quite."

"Oh?"

"I won, but he'd been looking much better during the fight."

"I'm sure you'll do better next time," she smiled again. And then both of them knew it was time for the question that Thor asked every time he came back.

"Have you noticed anything... unusual?" he asked predictably. It was one of the forms of the same question he usually asked, each time hoping to hear about at least slightest improvements in Loki's condition. Just like all the previous times the answer was the same. Ingibjörg shook her head sadly, looking at Thor with sympathy.

"Nothing so far, Thor," she said. The young man nodded. He had been expecting this answer, as always, and he was angry at himself for it. He didn't want to give up on Loki, in fact, he would never really be able to, but more than three months without any improvements at all... Well, it was rather discouraging.

     Very soon he dismissed her and she left. Loki looked taken care of and well-groomed, like he had always been looking lately, so Thor decided that the nurse was really doing her job well.

     The younger of the two was sitting in the armchair where the nurse had left him, near the large window that showed the beautiful view of this part of Copenhagen. Thor approached him, got down on one knee and took Loki's hand in his own two, squeezing it lightly.

"I'm not sure how, but I won," he smiled sadly, but then the smile was gone and Thor's expression became thoughtful. "You know... I had a very strange vision today. About you and... s-something that I don't even know how to name. Of course, you have nothing to do with that, but... It seemed so real. Do you have any dreams? Or... visions of something that doesn't happen in reality and simply can't happen? Maybe I'm just going insane and need a doctor... I'm not sure the brain of a normal person can create something I saw today," he shuddered. He sighed as he looked up at the face of his unresponsive baby brother.

 

     He wasn't superstitious, but the dream had unsettled him slightly, stirring the urge to protect; and it didn't matter if the threat wasn't real. In his dreams Loki needed protection. In reality Loki just needed to be taken care of. Instead of putting the younger youth into his bed, Thor took him into his own and wrapped his arms around the lean body.

"Mine... I chose you and you're mine..." he murmured, falling asleep before he even finished the sentence. This night he didn't seem to have any dreams at all, which was a blessing. But even in his deep sleep he was somehow a little aware of Loki's closeness, and sometimes Thor's strong arms unconsciously tightened slightly around the smaller young man, who was peacefully sleeping inside the warm, muscular sanctuary.

 

 

 

 **8.** **Play With Me**

 

     He had three days before the next fight, and it was great, because he was still healing after the previous one, so it was good to have a couple of days to rest.

     In good spirits he returned from the training session and the good, relaxing massage session that made the stiffness leave his body.

" '...Because Harthacnut had died leaving no heirs. Some modern scientists suggest that he had a stroke, but others think that he had been gravely ill for a while and his death had been expected...' Poor thing was so young," Ingibjörg shook her head, turning the page of the book she was reading, still not noticing that Thor had returned. He smiled, rolling his eyes. This trip to Denmark had inspired the nurse to pull up her Danish, because she thought she had started forgetting it. So now she was reading and translating some books on the history of Denmark, and especially books about the Danish royalty. Ingibjörg usually read aloud, as if reading for Loki, though with some comments of her own; just her thoughts mumbled aloud (which, as Thor knew, would've annoyed his little brother greatly). She was convinced that somewhere inside his mind Loki could partly perceive speech and tactile senses. Thor hoped that she was right. At least, he felt less stupid for talking to Loki all the time; he felt less like he was doing it only for his own comfort.

"Oh, you're back," Ingibjörg snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Uh-huh. What have you been doing?" he smiled back, taking his coat off.

"Nothing in particular. At first we went for a long walk in the park, then we ate and took our medication. And after that we've been reading this amazing book."

"I see," Thor said softly and rubbed his brother's shoulder affectionately, with a sad smile looking down at the boy in the armchair.

 

     The very next night his hazy dreams were once again troubled by Loki's cries. His Loki was calling for him and Thor didn't know what to do. The feeling of helplessness was devastating. The dream was very blurred and he couldn't see anything clearly, but he was slightly aware that he was running somewhere with a strong feeling that he'd got lost and didn't know where to go. He didn't even know where he was, could hardly see anything. The confusion was overwhelming. But he kept hearing Loki calling his name.

 

     For the second time during this night Thor woke up, covered in cold sweat, his heart felt like it was about to burst, beating too fast and too hard. This time he didn't remember having any dreams or hearing Loki crying for him, so he didn't know what had shocked his subconsciousness so hard. His eyes immediately darted towards the second bed in the bedroom, Loki's bed, separated from Thor's by the bedside table.

     ...And his heart seemed to have stopped for a couple of moments and sank, because the bed was empty. He almost flinched as he saw something out of the corner of his eye and turned his face to whatever had startled him. Loki was standing in front of a wall motionlessly, like a statue. Thor sighed and got up. It had happened several times before, though Loki usually stopped like this in the middle of a room or a corridor, sometimes in complete darkness, which, as Thor had already learned, didn't bother him at all anymore, just like everything else. It surprised the blond that the younger youth never once had upturned anything or hurt himself by colliding with something. It seemed like he was carefully avoiding all the obstacles, moving slowly and absent-mindedly before freezing on his tracks. It was a mystery what was going on to that not properly functioning brain of his.

     As Thor turned on the light and approached his brother, he took a moment to watch the blank, pale face in front of the wall. He found nothing unusual in the vacant expression, no sign of emotion, so he wrapped one arm around the narrow shoulders and led Loki back to his bed, finding no resistance, as usual. He made the younger one lie down, covered him with a blanket and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at the empty, green, blinking from time to time, eyes. Could Loki see anything strange? Could he think of something troubling? What could possibly wake him up some nights, making him go somewhere only to stop and stand there for a long time before he was taken back to bed usually by Thor, but sometimes by Frigga back at home. Doctors took this information into consideration, but advised not to pay much attention to it, unless Loki was reacting at any extrinsic stimuli. But what if Loki reacted at something from **within**? What if he was suffering somehow? Thor felt uneasy at the thought, and two deep, vertical wrinkles between his eyebrows seemed to have frozen on his face. He gently pressed his lips against Loki's temple and came back into his own bed. It took him almost two hours to fall asleep again.

     But in the morning he felt like his nerves were frazzled. He hadn't been crying for quite a while, but this morning he broke down, whilst taking a shower. Why had it happened to them? Why? More than anything else in the world he wanted to see his brother smiling at him again, to hear him talking to him, teasing him, grumbling at him; to have a happy, complete family again. He wanted them to go to cinema together or to a skating-rink; or anywhere Loki would've wanted to go. Thor wanted to spoil and to pamper his little brother. He wanted to see Loki jealous when some girl tried to get Thor's attention, and Loki would make sure she would just leave and stay away, either because Loki had outwitted her somehow and manipulated her into leaving Thor alone, or showing his difficult nature; sometimes too difficult for some people to endure. And Thor wouldn't even be able to get angry at his brother's terrible behaviour. He wanted to see how serious Loki looked when he was studying. He wanted Loki's antics. He just wanted Loki back... Was it too much to ask?!

     Already almost calm, with a big towel around his waist he came back into the room and approached Loki, who was sitting in the armchair, where Thor had left him. Looking at the pale face, he ran his fingers through the dark hair, gently tugging at the strands that were slightly curled at the ends.

"I'm here, I'm with you... But where are **you**? Why don't you give me a sign that you're here in this shell. Just a tiny sign... Just something for me to hold onto. I need it so much," he begged, almost whispering. But, of course, nothing happened, and the face he loved so dearly remained blank. Thor should've long stopped believing in miracles.

     He was just sitting there silently in front of Loki for some time before Ingibjörg entered the room after knocking several times. Noticing his sorrow since the moment she'd entered, she tried to cheer him up a little, but he was inconsolable and hardly even talked to her before leaving for his training session. She sighed, following him with her eyes and then returned to her duties, withdrawing the medication from the small vial with a syringe; this medication had to be administered each morning, but had been having no real effect so far, other than something insignificant that didn't even last, which she knew wasn't a good sign.

 

***

 

    The next night brought him another nightmare. The dream began, as usual, on the upper floor of the hospital (he absolutely had no idea why he usually started there). It was darker than usual. Once again he opened the double door on the first floor and entered the gloomy corridor. Tonight it looked even worse, but otherwise was the same shabby and unpleasant place. Everything felt pretty realistic, though; he was very aware of himself and his surroundings.

     After some time of aimless wandering, he, for some reason, decided to enter one of the rooms. And, immediately, there was a feeling of déjà vu that made his breath hitch inside his chest and made him stop on his tracks, as he saw the other door inside the room. Slowly and uncertainly, he entered the next room just to see the chair lying on the floor and the small, rectangular window, covered with the rusty wire netting high above the floor. The feeling of déjà vu and uneasiness became unbearable. He had been here before... He had fallen from this chair together with panicked Loki. The chair hadn't been moved since then. The creature... Thor remembered everything now and couldn't move for some time in shock. But then he picked the chair up, placed it in the upright position and stepped up onto it to see what was going on behind the window. He hoped he wasn't going to face the ugly creature looking at him from the other side of the netting. But actually there was nothing at all behind it, as if it had never led outside or had been bricked up after the last time Thor had been here.

     Confused, he stepped down on the floor and wondered what he was doing here and where he should go. But, first of all, he wanted to find Loki, though it had never been really possible before. Loki appeared randomly and Thor usually found him absolutely accidentally. During some times that Thor had visited this place he hadn't seen his little brother at all in this thrice cursed hospital, even though he'd always felt Loki's presence here. This thought made a strange idea cross his mind: what if he tried to use his relatively newly acquired empathy and make it work for him? He closed his eyes and tried to imagine where he should go to find Loki. When after a while he felt that it was working, he smiled to himself. He let the feeling guide him and slowly followed to where the feeling of Loki's presence was stronger. It was absolutely similar to the game 'Hot and Cold', only instead of verbal hints from somebody who had hidden a treasure, Thor was receiving such hints in the form of senses, and, of course, 'cold' and 'hot' were figurative terms, just like in that game.

     It was incredible! He felt like an excited child that understood how a puzzle was done. He often stopped and closed his eyes to make sure he was moving in the right direction, letting the empathy become his main sense for a few moments before opening his eyes and moving further. He tried not to think about any dark creatures that could take advantage of his vulnerability right now if they were anywhere near him, but, for some reason, he doubted it. However, Loki wasn't far, undoubtedly... _'Warm...'_ he was sensing Loki's fear and was moving in the direction of its source almost blindly. _'Warmer... Warmer... Hot... Hotter... Burning...'_

     His disappointment was almost devastating as he opened his eyes and found himself in front of the damned double door with those fucking round windows! He hated this place! It had traumatised Loki somehow, traumatised him so much that the feeling of his terror remained here like the stuffy air in a room that couldn't be ventilated. How was he supposed to use his empathy, in order to find Loki, if the place itself contained a lot of Loki's emotions (even though, most of them were weak) that distracted Thor and led him the wrong ways, making his amazing, precious gift completely useless? But he had no choice; he had to try again. What else was here for him to do? He was tired of the pointless wandering.

 

 _'Cold... Colder...'_ he sighed and stopped somewhere in the endless corridor, feeling stupid now, his excitement was long gone. Perhaps, time didn't matter in this place, but it felt like he'd spent many hours here. _'Loki, where are you?..'_

     Eventually, he started feeling it again, finding the invisible thread that was leading him either to Loki, or to some place where his emotions were concentrated. He hoped for the former. The feeling brought him into one of the rooms with another door. He opened it and found one more room with the similar door, and when he opened it he stopped on his tracks, finding himself in the mirror image of that gloomy corridor, only all the doors here were situated on the other side. Where the hell was he?! It was unthinkable... However, he kept feeling Loki's presence, and the feeling was stronger here... Unless he was going to get to the double door, only in this particular corridor this time, because it was so similar to the one he'd come from. He really hoped it wouldn't happen.

     When he reached one of the rooms that, as he could feel, was nearly vibrating with Loki's presence, he was both anxious and hopeful. He even stopped with his hand on the door handle for a moment to try to prepare himself for anything he would see inside. As he entered, he sighed in relief, because his Loki was there. The younger one flinched and looked in his direction, but Thor had a strong feeling that Loki was somehow looking through him. It wasn't surprising, because the younger teen often looked like he couldn't really see Thor in this odd place. The blond wondered if Loki could simply feel his presence without seeing him; or maybe, if he saw Thor sometimes, he saw him as some weak entity, an apparition. Why else the younger of the two of them was looking his way, but didn't look like he was seeing him?

     Nevertheless, Loki was never scared of him, even when Thor managed to touch him; and he wasn't scared at the moment either. The opened door was possibly making him nervous though. Thor closed it, just in case, and Loki seemingly relaxed.

     It was good that everything here felt so real this time, unlike some other times, because Thor could feel, see and think much clearer than during some other times he'd been here. He could notice much more and he could analyse the situation. He could also remember some previous visits, especially the one with the monster. However he couldn't really tell if some of his visits had been dreams; or if all of them had been dreams... Or none of them. On the other hand, he wasn't sure he'd ever had a dream in his life in which he was able to actually realise that it was just a dream before he woke up.

     Right now it didn't bother him too much. Dreams or not, he wanted to do something for Loki, who was sitting near the cracked, dirty wall, looking like he was listening to any noise. He was hiding, it was obvious...

"Loki, tell me what to do. Tell me how to help you," Thor said softly, squatting down in front of Loki to be able to look right into the green eyes. There was no answer. Thor touched the pale face of his brother, but the reaction was almost non-existent. The skin was slightly warm and the blond couldn't help but enjoy the moment.

     He decided to just sit and wait for whatever was going to happen (if anything was going to happen at all).

     He didn't have to wait long though. Loki's face suddenly became even paler and his eyes widened.

"What? What is it?" the older of the two asked in confusion. Slowly, his little brother stood up on his unsteady legs. Thor noticed that the boy's knees were shaking. He stood up as well and looked in the direction of the door, where Loki was looking, obviously frightened. But nothing happened so far. Uncertainly, Loki approached the door and opened it. Thor followed him. The younger one looked around. The corridor was empty and, moving as quietly as he could, he went down the corridor, frequently looking back with a haunted look. To Thor all of it didn't make sense until he started wondering if Loki could simply feel that something bad was getting closer, and he was just trying to escape before that something had a chance to get any closer to him.

     Very soon his suspicions were proved to be terrifyingly correct when he saw that his little brother stiffened and looked back as if he was looking in the face of his own death. Thor forced himself to look back as well and for a moment he stopped moving and breathing when he saw the ugly creature looking back at them from around the corner. That same creature...

     He had a feeling that the monster was looking specifically at Loki, and the blond hated it! Its 'eye', that thick, bright orange dot in the middle of the creature's face became even brighter, and the monster started moving out from around the corner. Thor could hear _its_ breathing; it sounded a little laboured and wheezing, but it didn't seem to bother the creature at all, so it was possibly normal for _it_ to make such noises whilst breathing. But he didn't have enough time to scrutinise the ugly thing. _It_ started moving towards them unhurriedly, which, Thor had to admit, was very intimidating. The stench of smoke was sickening now. Once again, Thor paid attention to the dark-grey, thick smoke curling very close to the creature's body, obscuring it, but allowing to see the shape of the ugly body very clearly. The thinner smoke was everywhere around the monster and was stretching behind the creature as _it_ was moving. Thor was distracted by the scared whimper that he'd heard behind his back. He turned to his brother, whom he had probably never seen **this** frightened. Loki was hyperventilating, scared so much that it seemed he was about to die from fear. Slowly he started moving back. Thor, in order to not lose sight of him again, followed.

"You! Stay away from him!" he growled at the creature, but _it_ didn't pay attention to him. _It_ wanted his brother... Before Thor knew it, Loki grabbed his both hands and pulled him into one of the rooms. The blond couldn't believe it and held his breath for a few seconds in astonishment, because it was the first time Loki had acknowledged his presence here in this dark place since the time Thor had started visiting it. For some reason, the wide, green eyes kept looking somewhere past Thor, but his smaller, paler hands kept holding onto Thor's, and he was tugging the older young man after himself. The blond didn't protest and just followed, still shocked at being finally somewhat noticed by his younger brother, who looked scared out of his mind right now.

     As he was too busy looking down at the scared face in front of him, it took him time to recognise the room. It was one of the two connected rooms that led to the other, similar corridor, from which Thor had come here. While Loki kept tugging him inside the next room, the blond was trying to make sense of what was going on. It looked like his brother had been trying to hide himself from that ugly thing all the time. Perhaps, Loki could feel _its_ presence, to some extent, and he knew if _it_ was close. When he had been looking through that window last time Thor had had a chance to get close to him, Loki had been simply watching the monster to make sure the creature had been really there, outside the building, so _it_ wouldn't sneak up on him, taking him unawares. Back then it hadn't worked very well, for some reason, but now Loki had obviously sensed the monster sooner.

     Thor hated the creature with passion. _It_ terrified Loki and paralysed him with fear. And via his empathy Thor knew that the creature had already hurt his brother before, and _it_ had hurt him severely. Suddenly, one of their conversations surfaced in Thor's mind. He remembered the dream (had it been a dream?) where they had been talking contentedly about something and then his little brother's expression had become sad and he'd said... He'd said: "... _It_ doesn't let me go...". Thor gasped quietly at the memory.

"Loki, you said _it_ didn't let you go. Was that _it_?" he asked anxiously. "Were you talking about that creature out there? Please, tell me!" he begged. Loki kept looking somewhere past Thor, into the emptiness, hardly reacting at the question, though a couple of times his scared eyes briefly stopped at Thor's face.

 

     And then everything was suddenly gone, and Thor opened his eyes waking up in his bed. Affected by the dream, he quickly got up and went to Loki's bed. His muscles protested slightly at being bothered this soon after sleep. Loki was sleeping, breathing calmly, and nothing looked unusual. Thor was trying to calm down as his brain was accepting the fact that **this** was the reality, not what he'd seen a couple of minutes ago. It had been just a dream, no matter how real it had looked and felt.

     Something was seriously wrong with him if his mind kept producing something that gruesome. It also couldn't be normal that his dreams were this connected to each other. Maybe he needed help... Maybe after the competition he would have to visit a doctor. Any psychologist would easily explain his dreams by his sadness and hurt because of what had happened to Loki, by Thor's refusal to accept that it had happened to the person he loved so much; and, of course, by his feeling of helplessness, because his mind kept creating situations where he was trying to save his dream Loki. It was a great explanation, absolutely logical, and, **of course** , he would hear it from a doctor, who couldn't and wouldn't tell Thor anything he didn't know already; and Thor would be angry about it, because he wouldn't get any real help other than useless words! They would never even start to really understand what Loki meant to him. They would definitely try to convince him to let go of the situation and accept the fact that he could do **nothing** to save his little brother and that Loki's healing didn't depend on him. But he would never be able to accept it even if it was really driving him insane. He was a fighter, for fuck's sake! He was used to fighting as long as he remembered himself.

     For Loki he would fight right up to his dying breath. He would fight even for the Loki in his dreams and even if it cost Thor his sanity. Maybe if he saved that dream Loki, helped him to get out of that cursed place, away from that fucking creature, Thor himself would feel better and would simply stop seeing those dreams? It was worth trying; of course, if he would get to that place again in one of his next dreams. Somehow he didn't even doubt that he would. To hell logic, to hell sanity and common sense... Fighting for an illusion, fighting for nothing was better than a helpless, pathetic resignation.

"I have no idea what's going on," he murmured, gently playing with a dark strand of Loki's hair between his fingers.

 

 

 

 **9.** **The Shaken Morale**

 

     Thor looked incredibly determined during the next two fights, and his opponents didn't stand a chance against his thunderous attacks. His team-mates and trainer were ecstatic. Some spectators held their breath each time he was doing one of his combos that usually knocked his opponents down. The sport reporters were very interested in the young fighter, and those whose lives were devoted to boxing admitted that Thor probably had a great future ahead of him if he was going to keep fighting like this.

     No one knew what was going on inside his head. He took his frustrations out on his opponents and practically used them to keep himself in the best shape that he was capable of achieving. He needed it. He needed to be focused, he needed to think fast and hit hard to defeat anyone on his way.

     He was waiting for one of those realistic dreams where he would be able to use all his senses and generally feel material and coherent. Even though he had been visiting the hospital in some of his recent dreams, he hadn't been conscious enough in them to do anything useful. Mostly it had been just the same aimless wandering that he hated so much.

     He could admit to himself now that he was driving himself insane, taking all of it so serious, instead of admitting that it was just a delusion, a dangerous one, and he would end up in a mental hospital for indulging in it. It made him falter sometimes. But only sometimes.

 

***

 

     After their training session Thor and his team-mates got into their minibus that usually delivered them to the hotel where all of them had been living during the time of the competition. Most of the young fighters became visibly relaxed as soon as they'd made themselves comfortable and the floor was crammed with their sports bags; some young men plugged their ears with earphones, others were quietly talking to each other, discussing their future opponents, current girlfriends or some new film they desired to see. One of them complained that he'd hurt his shoulder during his workout.

     Thor pressed the side of his head to the side window, feeling a little tired and sleepy. Quiet, calm voices around him were lulling, and when the minibus was off, the light, comfortable rocking quickly made him relaxed enough to fall asleep.

     As he opened his eyes, he felt really confused at first, finding himself in some shabby corridor. He was conscious enough to recognise this place very soon though; it was the top floor of the abandoned hospital. Slowly but surely he was recalling all the previous times he had been here. He remembered the creature he hated so much, remembered his decision to destroy _it_ and to get Loki out of here; though he didn't know if he'd made that decision in his dream or in reality. He could never tell what was real and what wasn't; being here felt real enough to be reality.

     Without wasting time he headed straight to the nearest stairway and went down to the first floor. Without stopping, he reached the damned double door and opened it... to find himself in a place completely different from what he had usually seen here. There were several steps down and a short corridor with four doors. He could swear he'd seen this place before, which brought up an association with something terrible and painful that stabbed him in his heart. Loki... Loki had been hurt here. He couldn't remember details, but somehow he knew that he didn't want to remember them.

     To his dismay, he couldn't feel Loki via his empathy, but he could feel his little brother's pain and anguish all over this place. It made it hard for Thor to breathe and he had to try to disconnect himself from it. If empathy was his new additional sense, he could control it, right? After all, he could block his sight by simply closing his eyes or his hearing by pressing his hands against his ears. Maybe there was something like that for his empathy? It helped as he concentrated on what he was seeing.

     Another thing that Thor hated was the fact that he, once again, didn't know where to go and what to do. He decided to just explore the place.

     Loki had been hurt behind one of these doors, and his empathy immediately let him feel, which one. He opened the door. The feeling of Loki's pain was shocking. It was dark inside, but Thor had left the double door upstairs opened, so he could see just about everything here as soon as his eyes had got accustomed to the semidarkness. Oh, he knew this place, he really did. It had been the mortuary. The once white tiles on the floor and walls were cracked, yellowish or fallen off completely in some places. Yes, this was exactly what Thor had subconsciously expected to see. The old, slightly rusty refrigerators and the sink, just as rusty... Everything felt predictable to him. Looking down on the floor he saw some dark stain. The dried blood... He knew it was Loki's and his heart stuttered at this knowledge. He squatted down and touched the stain with his fingertips. Looking around again, he could swear that something was missing. He wasn't sure if it was important, but decided to look around, just in case.

     At the same time, he started losing control over his senses. He could smell death, a lot of it. So many dead bodies had been through this place. They had been dissected for post-mortem examinations, they had been waiting here for days (or much longer) to be identified by their relatives. Some had been fresh, delivered from the upper floors of the hospital, still warm probably, after being emptied of their lives not long before that; some had been long dead, and there was hardly anything on earth that could make their stench just disappear, quickly and entirely. This place was a brief stop between life (or a hospital bed) and a grave. The air still kept the aftersmell of death and decay. Or was it Thor's empathy that affected his other senses at the moment?

     But all of it was old, long gone, leaving only a trace of what had been here long ago. It was mostly imaginary and it didn't even really bother Thor, other than making this place a little creepier. The smell of fear and devastating despair was much fresher; the smell of tears, pain, blood, burning, smoke... Thor felt nauseous; his fists clenched tightly. It felt like a good part of Loki had been left here, severely torn away from the boy. Thor wasn't sure what exactly had happened here to Loki, not consciously. But in his heart he knew. He just knew that he possessed this knowledge; it was trapped in his subconsciousness, and he wasn't ready to even try to discover it, because his empathy would've, most likely, killed him on the spot if he did. It had been bad for Loki, it had been terrible, frightening; a pure agony both emotionally and physically. That was all Thor needed to know, no details were required... His eyes involuntarily travelled to the dry stain of blood on the floor, and he shut them tightly. He was already feeling like he was being pulled down into a marsh, sinking deeper and deeper in what his additional sense was flooding him with.

     He did his best to collect himself once again. _'Watch and explore, **don't** feel. Use your head, not your heart,'_ he ordered himself. It was working.

     Overcoming the squeamishness, he opened several random doors of the refrigerators and even slightly pulled out the drawers made for dead bodies. _'These better be empty...'_ He could hardly see anything inside simply because the light from upstairs wasn't enough, but from what he saw, there was absolutely nothing in there. Somehow he was almost sure that if he thoroughly checked each one of the refrigerators, he would find nothing useful. He wished he had an electric torch though...

     Suddenly, his eyes stopped on the wall near one of the refrigerators. The wall seemed strangely empty. And then it came to him. A door...There had to be a door, but there wasn't. How did he know? What did it mean? Did it mean anything at all? Very unexpectedly a loud slam of the door, the only one in this room, nearly deafened him and startled him. The noise echoed right into his mind and lingered there. The room plunged into complete, impenetrable darkness. Thor felt paralysed, almost forgetting how to breathe for a few moments. Someone had locked him up here... He was trapped. There were no other ways to get out of here, so there was no escape. Why hadn't he left sooner, for fuck's sake?! He stubbornly tried to force his own body to move and to breathe, but he couldn't. The dark whirlwind of panicked thoughts was devouring his willpower.

     But then he suddenly realised that it wasn't **his** reaction, it was Loki's... Thor, being in danger, either fought or fled, if there was no other way. His normal reaction right now would've been moving towards the door quickly and trying to break it. He never became paralysed like this; darkness didn't terrify him in such a manner. The impossibility of seeing an enemy (if there was any) was the only thing that could frighten him in the dark. And yet, he was standing there, frozen.

"No, no, no! I can't die! Please, I don't want... Mum..." he suddenly heard the pained, panicked voice out of nowhere, and it made him stop even trying to breathe. The words caused pain and sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't tell if he'd heard it for real or it had been just in his head. He was more inclined towards the latter and was hoping he was right in his conclusion.

"Loki..." he whispered, nevertheless. And all of it ended the very next moment. The door was once again open as if it hadn't been shut a few moments ago (which was very likely), letting the weak light into the room. He could move and breathe again without any trouble, except for being really shaken up right now. It had been just a hallucination...  ' _Use your head, not your heart,'_ he reminded himself sternly.

     He knew he had to get out of here immediately. He'd found nothing useful anyway, no answers, so not only it was useless to stay there, but the very atmosphere of the room was unbearable, because its air was saturated with Loki's sufferings. The cursed place was poisoning Thor, especially his sanity. He left it without looking back, but he was on his alert as he was outside, in case something or someone **had** shut that door. There was no one there though.

 

     The next room was absolutely empty; there was nothing to look at other than cracked, shabby walls, but it was slightly illuminated, and Thor couldn't understand where the light was coming from and why there wasn't any in the room with the refrigerators then.

     He moved to another one. Just like the previous one, it was illuminated, even though the light was dim. The room was smaller than the previous two. There were a few shelves at the walls and a desk. The pieces of furniture were as shabby as everything else in this old hospital. Just as in the previous two rooms he'd visited, the floor and the walls here were tiled with the same ugly, once white, ceramic tiles. There was nothing interesting here.., other than another door in the far wall. It was locked.

     Neither hitting the door with his shoulder, nor several powerful hits of his foot just below the lock allowed Thor to break it, despite his unquestionable physical strength. The door remained on its place no matter what. Thor wasn't even sure if there was anything behind it worth bothering himself with, but, since he was exploring the place, everything had to be checked. He looked around, trying to find something that could help him to open the door. Suddenly, he saw several transparent glass jars on one of the shelves. Strangely he hadn't paid attention to them before.

     As he approached to take a better look, he froze for a brief moment, seeing the contents of the five litre jar, the biggest of them all. There was a foetus inside, preserved in formaldehyde, most likely, or in something similar. The foetus was curled up as if it was still in a womb. It was a regular human baby, looking developed enough to be a newborn, as far as Thor could tell. It, or rather **she** , probably hadn't survived her birth or had died shortly after it. Anyway, she was undoubtedly old enough to be properly buried rather than stuffed into a jar like some gruesome souvenir. She even had a proper navel, not a piece of a cord. _'This is just wrong,'_ Thor thought in disgust, looking at the little corpse.

     The other, smaller, jars were empty; some were filled with probably the same yellowish liquid that preserved the baby from decay, but it looked dirtier. He was about to turn away and leave when his eyes accidentally looked at the baby again and noticed that there was something small, clutched in her little fist. As he took a closer look, frowning slightly in concentration, he realised that the thing in the dead baby's hand was a key! Could it be the key that unlocked that door? Even if it was... No... There was no way he was going to get it out of the jar with a dead infant inside. Angrily, he turned around and headed to the exit; but once he was outside, in the short corridor, he stopped. What if Loki was behind that locked door? What if something happened and Thor wouldn't have another chance to enter that doorway? He had sworn to do anything possible (and impossible) to save Loki. Was it some kind of a test?

     He sighed and returned into the room. For a minute or so he was looking at someone's sickening handiwork, feeling like he was about to vandalise something that should never be touched. But he was trying to comfort himself with the thought that the baby was already long dead, so she couldn't care less about what he was going to do. Right! This baby was dead and Loki was alive and needed help. It made Thor determined enough to take the jar from the shelf and put it on the desk. At first he thought about throwing the jar on the floor, but the mental image of a little, broken corpse on the wet floor among the pieces of glass was too repulsing.

"All right, then..." he murmured quietly and started to open the jar. At first unscrewing the lid seemed impossible, but then it gave in under his physical strength and he opened it, holding his breath. There was no way he was going to put his hand into the jar, not to mention that his hand was too big and there was hardly any room inside the jar, because its occupant was taking almost the entire space of it. He rolled his sleeves up and slowly started tilting the jar right over the desk, making the formaldehyde solution pour out and making sure it wouldn't get on any part of him. It smelled terribly, irritating his eyes, nose and throat. Its flow made the little body move out. When it slid halfway out of the jar and the tiny hand that held the key was accessible, Thor stopped tilting the jar and, holding it with one hand, tried to take the key out with two fingers of the other one. It didn't take him much effort to take possession of the key almost without touching the tiny fingers and trying not to think that they felt almost like wet, hard rubber.

"Sorry, girl, but I need it more than you do..." he murmured. He put the key on the desk and started slowly moving the jar in the upright position to let the gravity make the baby's body slide back into the jar entirely with only a small help of his hand. The little body wouldn't be as perfectly preserved as before now that there wasn't enough formaldehyde inside the jar, but Thor couldn't make himself care too much about it. He closed the jar and put it back on the shelf. He quickly blinked several times, trying to get rid of the prickling sensation in his eyes, caused by the acrid smell. He wanted to get out of here to at least stop inhaling these disgusting formaldehyde fumes. Still, even this was better than going back into the room with the refrigerators, where his empathy was driving him insane.

     He took the key from the desk and approached the locked door. There was no guarantee that the key opened this door or anything else here at all. It would be 'wonderful' if he had done what he had just done for nothing. For a couple of moments he was inwardly preparing himself to what could possibly follow: from being unable to open the door with this key to facing a danger behind it if it opened. But he was rather determined, so, without wasting any more time, he inserted the key into the keyhole (it fit!) and turned it three times clockwise. The door was unlocked and he felt a little proud and triumphant about this fact. But, as soon as he opened it, he rolled his eyes and groaned in annoyance. It was, most likely, the corridor where he had found Loki last time and where the creature had been chasing them (or rather the younger of them two). Judging by the fact that the doors were situated on the left side of the corridor, it was really the one he considered the 'mirror image' of the one that he had visited so many times before. On the other hand, it depended in which end of the corridor he was right now to judge about a disposition of the doors. It was just bizarre. It just didn't make any sense. He wished he had a plan of this building, he wished there was any logic in all of it...

     And then there was his least favourite part which consisted of wandering in search of something, anything. He couldn't feel Loki's location so far, but he just knew his brother was here somewhere, probably hiding from the creature. _'Stay safe,'_ Thor thought with tenderness.

     Eventually, after what seemed like hours, he managed to get to the parallel corridor, through the rooms that connected the two corridors. This one felt much more familiar. Quite soon it became much clearer why this time he had started his way here in such an unusual, unexpected manner: the place where the double door had been before, the one that he had used all the previous times (even though this time he'd got here through the similar door (yes, this place was more fucked up than he'd thought)) was blocked with the wall that somehow looked a little out of place. It was a dilapidated, concrete wall with some rust stains, and it looked like it had been brought here straight from a very old, neglected and damp basement. Yes, totally out of place even for this shabby hospital. It was obvious that the creature was, figuratively speaking, putting spokes in Thor's wheels. At first _it_ , for some reason, had blocked that little window, and now this... And maybe _it_ had managed to make that door in the room with the refrigerators disappear as well, for some reason (though Thor still wasn't entirely sure if that door should've been there, in the first place). _It_ obviously hadn't calculated everything, because he'd managed to get here anyway; or _it_ just wanted him to waste his time, already knowing that he never spent too much time here, so _it_ decided to distract him.

     Either way, the message was clear: the creature didn't want him here. But who the fuck cared what _it_ wanted? _'I don't know what or who you think you are, but, don't even doubt it, I'm going to keep coming here, whether you like it or not; and I'm going to take **my** Loki away with me, you sick fuck,'_ he thought angrily, looking at that newly appeared wall. Maybe he was a bit too self-confident? The creature knew this place, it was _its_ domain; _it_ could even make changes in it, judging by this wall and other things he'd seen today. Besides, _it_ wasn't a human being, and he knew nothing about _it_ and how to kill _it_. Giving up wasn't even an option, though.

     Thor tried to be patient, because it felt like his searching would never end. He couldn't feel Loki's location so far, which was frustrating. He opened each door he found on his way, but there was nothing that could be interesting or helpful.

     Eventually, he entered the room that had a lot of old, dismantled furniture and other junk near the walls. But what really attracted Thor's attention were some tools carelessly scattered in one of the corners. There were several old, dirty mops with wooden handles, a rusty bucket, a couple of old wooden sticks, skeins of wires and a lot of small, useless, mostly broken things. Among all of that rubbish he managed to quickly spot the sledgehammer. It didn't look very old, the metal had darkened, but it wasn't rusty; and it was **really** big. Hammers like this were usually used to break some massive objects, such as thick tiles that had to be broken off the floors or walls; and even to break the walls themselves in some cases. Even a really strong worker wouldn't be able to work holding it in only one hand, because it was too massive and heavy. The handle was long and made of metal, as well as the heavy head that would've probably been too heavy for a handle made of wood; it just wouldn't have lasted. Thor weighed the impressive thing in his hands. He immediately felt a bit more secure, because this thing was almost perfect as a weapon. Why not? People in the past had fought with hammers, especially when an enemy had been well-armoured, which made bladed weapons ineffective. This tool resembled some two-handed war hammers that he'd seen in museums before, though it seemed like it had been in some other life, memories of which were rather obscured here in this hospital. Or, perhaps, that other life, outside of this building, was just a dream?

     Anyway, having such a thing with him was pretty inspiring, though someone with a slighter build would've probably preferred to leave it alone, instead of lugging it around. But Thor's strong body could handle it. Being armed was undoubtedly a tangible advantage, because the idea of fighting with his bare hands seemed a little too extreme. He didn't know what he was going to face on his way. Would it be an enemy of flesh and blood or some inanimate obstacle (how about a locked door?), this thing could be quite useful. It could be quite enough to smash someone's skull with a single hit. It was robbing him of his agility, though; he wouldn't be really fast if he would have to fight (and he really hoped that he would!), but it was far better than having only his fists as a weapon, even if he was used to it being a boxer (in that other life, at least, where he had parents he loved, plenty of interests, including boxing, where he had Sif, who was his best friend, and... well, he had **life**.It couldn't be imaginary, could it?).

     It seemed like several more hours had passed as Thor kept exploring the endless corridor and rooms in it. His so far futile search was discouraging, but he rarely stopped to take a minute of rest. The sledgehammer felt heavier now after so much time of carrying it around. He was either carrying it in both hands in front of himself, or on his mighty shoulders, like a yoke.

     He stopped suddenly as his heart stuttered in tenderness. _'Loki...'_ Loki was here somewhere. Thor could feel him. He let his empathy guide him, and it brought him into one of the rooms. There was another door inside. Thor opened it slowly not to startle Loki again. He felt his little brother inside. It looked like it had been some storeroom once. There even were a few big, slightly rusty metal shelving units, though the shelves were empty, not including some boxes that were either empty or containing some old rubbish.

"Loki?" Thor said quietly, looking around. His empathy brought him to the corner of the room. Loki was there behind one of the shelving units. He was curled up on some old, big down-padded coat, torn in some places. At first Thor was startled, thinking that Loki was hurt, but as he approached and squatted down near the smaller young man, he realised that Loki was just sleeping. Even in his sleep he looked tired and there were dark shadows under his closed eyes. He had possibly got so tired of running away and hiding from the creature that there was nothing else left to do for him other than finding a hiding place where he could have some sleep, finally feeling more or less safe. Thor quietly put the sledgehammer down: head on the floor, handle against the wall.

     He let Loki sleep without bothering him, even though he felt the urge to snuggle up against the sleeping boy or just to touch his face gently. He was just sitting there next to him, pressing his back against the wall, resting and feeling like a warden of his brother's sleep. He felt guilty for secretly hoping that the ugly creature would come here so he would be able to beat the hell out of it with his sledgehammer, or at least to test the waters and see what the creature was capable of as an opponent.

     When Loki slowly opened his eyes and sat up, looking sleepy and disoriented, Thor couldn't help but smile. He hoped that his little brother would acknowledge his presence again, just like the last time when Loki had grabbed his hands, trying to pull him away from the monster, who hadn't been even interested in pursuing Thor.

"Hi..." the blond said softly. Loki turned to him, but he looked confused and curious, and, once again, it seemed like he was looking through Thor, slightly squinting. Oh, damn, Thor really wanted to know what Loki was seeing as he was looking at him. But, as usual, his brother wasn't scared of him. Thor once again thought about the empathy that probably worked both ways, so maybe Loki could feel his presence as well as Thor his. But the blond could see his younger brother as he was, whereas Loki saw something odd looking at Thor. The blond decided to try a physical touch once again and put his hand just below the nape of his brother's neck. Loki immediately started to relax at his touch and leaned into it. It looked like he felt warm and comfortable.

"It wasn't easy to find you this time, you know. Have you done something so it would be harder for... _it_... to find you? It has something to do with your empathy, doesn't it?" Thor murmured close to Loki's ear. The dark-haired youth reacted at his voice by once again turning his face towards the source, though it still wasn't like he could properly see and hear Thor. He thought that maybe every time he visited this place, he sank deeper and deeper into its strange reality, that was why Loki had started reacting at his presence somewhat.

     Suddenly, Thor felt as if he was being tugged away by something. It had happened before. He knew he was about to disappear from here, and it was frustrating! Trying his best to hold onto his consciousness and this place, he grabbed the sledgehammer and put it in front of Loki, the long handle up towards the ceiling. Loki looked at the tool confused.

"Loki! Loki, you have to listen to me!" Thor exclaimed loudly and quickly, trying to attract his brother's attention. He really didn't have much time. He took Loki's both pale hands and made them grab hold of the metal handle of the enormous hammer. "I need you to keep this for me," he said. Loki was looking alternately **at him** (or almost at him anyway...) and at the hammer with his eyes wide open, his lips were parted in surprise. The blond was covering his brother's hands with his own, making them keep holding onto the handle. "I will come back for you, I promise. Please, you have to make sure I have this sledgehammer next time I'm here. Stay safe and wait for me!" With the last words he pressed his lips against the bridge of Loki's nose. The green eyes slowly closed at the touch of Thor's lips. The very next moment everything became hazy and the floor was disappearing from under the blond's feet and knees; the world was collapsing for him.

 

"Thor! Tho-oor..." someone was calling him. He opened his eyes, totally disoriented and perplexed. The minibus... He had fallen asleep on the way to the hotel. What felt like many hours in his dream was, in fact, only a half an hour, because the way usually took about thirty minutes or so. "You're a heavy sleeper, aren't you?" the same voice chuckled. Right... Ágúst, one of Thor's team-mates, had been trying to wake him up, because they were already near the hotel.

     For goodness sake, his dreams were truly insane. Not only this one was a continuation of those that he had seen before, but things had become even more insane, which he had thought was impossible. It was enough that he felt too real and conscious in some of those dreams, which was already suspicious. And fuck.... A dead baby in a jar? Perfect! If his dream Loki would really keep the sledgehammer for him until one of the next dreams, Thor would officially admit that he was mental and needed a medication.

 

***

 

     Another oddly realistic dream didn't keep Thor waiting. Thankfully, this time it hadn't found him in a minibus, or worse, on a ring. He had comfortably fallen asleep in the bed of his and Loki's hotel room. Unfortunately, he was met by an unpleasant surprise, which was a new wall (though 'new' wasn't the right word for a dirty, shabby wall with rust stains). It blocked the corridor on the first floor that led to the notorious double door. The wall was similar to the one he had seen inside. This time the creature had been quite prudent.

     Thor was angry and upset. The wandering in attempt to find another entrance was futile. He could feel Loki, he could feel him trapped in that isolated place, and it was hurting Thor's heart. He was supposed to be there with him. He had promised... Thor hated being helpless more than anything else.

     He woke up with the strong feeling of uneasiness after that dream.

 

***

 

     The next day was some kind of a day off for him when he had no fights and no training sessions, so he could spend the entire day with Loki. Ingibjörg administered Loki his medication and fed him through the tube, inserted into the boy's stomach through his nose (something that Thor still couldn't look at without being hurt, even though it was the only way his brother had been fed for a long time now). At least, Ingibjörg seemed exceptionally careful and professional doing it. With the previous nurse, albeit experienced and seemingly careful as well, Loki's nose had bled a few times, though Thor suspected it happened often in patients that were unlucky enough to get their sustenance this way.

     When the woman left, Thor took his little brother for a walk in the park not far away from the hotel. It was a good place to relax and there weren't many people around. Thor's arm was around Loki's, and, as usual, it was easy for him to make Loki walk slowly alongside him. Eventually, he sat down on a bench and made his little brother sit down as well. The blond felt lonely. He still hadn't entirely got used to have only Loki's body with him, hadn't entirely accepted it. He was imagining what they would've talked about right now if his brother was fine. Most likely, they would've been discussing Thor's fights and further plans, or... Goodness, they would've talked about anything they wanted to talk about. Most of all, Thor wanted a chance to say how much he loved Loki, to get a smile in return and probably some teasing for being a silly, soppy, big softie, or whatever Loki would've called him for being sentimental ("A sentimental fool," Loki would've probably said).

 _'What can I do? I can't even help you in my dreams...'_ Thor thought and sighed; he took his brother's hand into his own before plunging into his own thoughts.

     Yesterday Loki's doctor had rung and asked Thor questions, and then the doctor had talked to Ingibjörg, who could answer his questions in a more medical language. After that she'd given the phone back to Thor, and the doctor had said that it was probably necessary for Loki to spend some time in the mental hospital again after their return from Denmark. Thor was devastated by that recommendation. It had been a torture for him when they had taken his little brother there for the first time, and Thor had visited him every day, spending as much time with him as he could. But seeing Loki there in that place had been a great trial for him. And the hospitalisation hadn't even been helpful at all! He was afraid that they would use some horrifying methods on his brother. He couldn't trust anyone, even knowing that the medical staff was caring and professional. Loki was absolutely helpless, and he wouldn't be able to do anything, wouldn't be able to protest, if they decided to do... something he wouldn't like.

     After that phone talk Thor had been a bundle of nerves, his heart beating fast in apprehension. His imagination had created scenes with electroconvulsive therapy (which had been briefly mentioned, by the way), brain surgery (which hadn't been mentioned at all, and, frankly, Thor had never heard if it was used in cases like Loki's. But what if..?) that included trepanning; and other gruesome things. He had imagined his baby brother as alive as a plant with his head partially shaved on one side, and there was an ugly, thick, reddened stitch after some surgery. And Loki's eyes were still empty. What if he would be in agony, but his body wouldn't be able to react and show anyone that he was consciously feeling pain? What if some actions of doctors would have an opposite effect, depriving Loki of any chances to heal, if he had any?

     All those thoughts had made Thor want to hit his head against a wall to shake the terrible mental images out of it. He had worked himself up to the point of being on the verge of having a nervous breakdown. Ingibjörg, seeing his state, had tried to convince him to stop seeing enemies in medical workers and to stop expecting them to use inhuman, 'medieval' methods. She had also tried to assure him that doctors wouldn't do anything serious without consent of their family. It was a pile of papers to read and sign; doing anything radical without it was illegal. In some cases it was a serious medical crime. But even that hadn't convinced Thor. What if Father would sign those papers, thinking that he was doing a right thing? Yes, Thor couldn't trust even his own Father, even though Odin cared for Loki. Thor knew it was insane and ridiculous, he knew he was being paranoid, but there was nothing he could do about it. Even though there was probably nothing worse could be done to Loki's mind than what had already been done, Thor was afraid and mistrustful. Ingibjörg had offered to let her keep taking care of Loki in hospital, though she didn't work there; it could be arranged, nevertheless. It could put Thor's mind at ease a little, because he trusted her... as much as he was capable of trusting anybody with his little brother. But even her offer hadn't made Thor feel better.

     He came back to reality where he was still sitting on the bench with his Loki, still holding his hand that, as usual, felt small in his own. He squeezed it gently. They were going to spend two more weeks in Denmark, and Thor wasn't sure he wanted to come back. He tried to convince himself that whatever doctors were going to do was for Loki's good, but his chest hurt as if his heart was feeling that he was going to lose Loki for good, irreversibly; even his body. Helpless, angry tears welled into his eyes, but he blinked them away and pressed his brother closer to himself, wrapping his arm around the slim body. Slowly and gently he pressed his lips against the bridge of Loki's nose, not unlike he had kissed his dream Loki last time he had seen him. He felt like he had let down both Lokis.

 

***

 

     And, as if it wasn't enough, he had another dream, apparently made to make him feel even less sane than before. He 'woke up' in a dream all alone in his own room back home. It was the painfully familiar music that woke him up. The piano music. Thor felt as if his heart had stuck inside his throat when he recognised it. Shivering, he sat up in his bed and watched his mobile phone on the bedside table. It was vibrating and the buttons were glowing in the darkness of his room. This music... Loki was the one who had installed it on Thor's phone, because he hated the music that had been playing every time he rang Thor. He didn't want to be associated with 'that crap', so he changed the said 'crap' into some classical piano music. Thor was sure it was famous, but he wouldn't be able to recall the title and the composer if his life depended on it.

     And now he was staring at the phone and wasn't sure if he should pick it up, as if the mobile phone would explode if he touched it. Whatever it was, it wasn't normal; it felt so terribly wrong. Answering the phone felt like willingly letting the insanity in. But it kept vibrating, the music kept playing and, eventually, Thor just picked it up and answered it.

"Yes?.." he whispered, not trusting his voice. At first it was quiet, but then he could hear desperate sobs and his heart was in his throat again. "Loki..." he whispered. He could only hear sobs; his brother's. Thor could hear Loki struggling to say something, but miserable, broken cries were all he could produce, no longer just stifled sobs. It felt like Loki was far away, much farther than on the other end of the world, but somewhere beyond, where Thor couldn't reach; and the realisation of it was agonising.

"Loki, please, tell me how to get to you... I will come for you; I will take you home," Thor promised, his voice shook as he tried his best to hold back his own tears. But, again, sobs were the only answer he got; Loki sounded so devastated that it hurt physically to hear him. Thor was going insane and he was giving up on fighting it. Maybe if the insanity just took him, he wouldn't be in so much pain?

"I don't know what to do... I don't think I can help you. I thought I could, but..." he whispered, shaking his head; tears burned his eyes. The truth behind his words was too much to endure. He closed his eyes and let himself grieve and hurt. He would've given so much to be next to Loki right now. If his sanity was a price, he was willing to pay, but it didn't feel like even that would be enough to get him to Loki. So Thor allowed himself to feel the pain, as if there was nothing else left. And, really, was there?

     Eventually, the sobs stopped and it was quiet. And Thor was all alone. Loki wasn't there any longer.

 

     The dream felt painful enough for Thor to check his mobile phone in the morning. There were no calls, and, of course, there were no calls from one particular subscriber. There had been no calls from that subscriber for a very long time now.

     Perhaps, for everybody's sake, it was time to let go?..

 

 

 

**10\. The Dark Adventure**

 

     Once again, he was on the top floor of the hospital. He had already been downstairs; the ugly wall was still there and didn't let him go any further, so he'd had nothing else left to do other than come back where he had begun, having no clue for the further course of actions.

     He decided to go in the other direction, not the one he faced every time he found himself here, not the one where was that double door on the first floor and the staircase that he always used to get to the first floor. It seemed like a stupid decision to take another way, but Thor didn't see any other choice. He had tried so many things already, including trying to go out of the building in order to find another entrance from the outside into the part of the building where he needed to get to. But the entrance doors were locked and he'd failed to open or break the windows on the first floor. It was ridiculous, but he couldn't go outside no matter what he did.

     Surprisingly, he reached the end of the corridor. He had never reached the end going in the other, already habitual, direction of this corridor that, like some other corridors here, seemed endless. It was interesting, though he wasn't sure if it was useful. There was a door. When Thor opened it, he saw another staircase. It obviously was the last one, because he was certain he was at the very end of the building. Going down wouldn't have made any sense; he would've just gone through the corridor on the first floor to once again reach the concrete wall that blocked his way. The corridors of the second and third floors seemed endless (he had already tried to reach the other end of the building through them, trying to find a way around the damned wall, but he'd failed), just like here, on the top, fourth floor, so there was no point in going down there, either.

     _'I'm so sorry, Loki... Looks like I've really failed you.'_ He sighed tiredly and rolled his eyes... And it was a very fortunate thing to do, because he suddenly saw the slightly rusty ladder that led up to the trap door in the ceiling. Well, going downstairs made no sense. How about going up then? He didn't put much hope in this idea, but, while he was here, he had to check everything.

     It took him a few attempts to grab hold of the ladder as he was jumping up to reach it. But he managed to pull it down and climb up to the trap door, which, thank goodness, wasn't locked. Thankfully, this time no keys taken from dead babies, or other unpleasant things, were required of him. Thor found himself in the attic. Basically, there was nothing unusual here. It was very dusty and very empty, not including pipes along the walls and constructions that supported the roof. There were no sources of light other than some holes, mostly very little, but quite numerous, in the rusty roof. Those holes let the pale rays of daylight in, as well as not very numerous dormers, which were just apertures in the lower part of the roof, not blocked by anything at all. It wasn't too much, but it was quite enough for Thor to see the place properly. Strangely, he felt rather safe here in this spacious, moderately murky place, but decided to be careful, nevertheless. Who knew what the creature had in store for him.

     He started his way through the attic to the other end of the building. _'Please, please, don't let it be endless...'_ he thought gravely, but, at the same time, he was inwardly getting ready for another disappointment. All the other floors, except for the bottom one, were endless; or rather they **seemed** endless, which made no difference, because, either way, he couldn't reach the other end as a result of some anomaly.

     On his way he often met the concrete partitions that separated parts of the attic, but they all had doorways, even though there were no doors. Thor secretly sighed in relief almost every time he saw that the partitions weren't whole and the doorways in them weren't blocked. But as he reached the one that had an old, massive door with a padlock, he groaned in frustration. Breaking the door didn't seem possible. He wished he had his sledgehammer now. Fortunately, there were dormers, and there were heavy wooden stairs under each one of them.

     Without thinking twice, Thor climbed up and out onto the roof. The dormer was at the very edge of the roof, but thankfully, there was some space in front of it that allowed Thor to step on it and walk away from the edge, hoping that the roof wouldn't break under his weight. It was rusty in many places, but it didn't feel like it was going to break, despite some small holes in it. As Thor made sure he'd found a balance and felt steady on his feet, he let himself stand straight and look around. The afternoon sun was shining down on him, barely warm, somewhat dim and pale, but it definitely felt much more pleasant than being inside of the building. He filled his lungs with clear, cool air, squinting slightly as his eyes were getting accustomed to the light.

     He had already seen the surroundings through the dirty windows, but now he could truly admit that the other buildings around this one were more like mirages than actual buildings. They were blurry and... just didn't look very real. The sky was slightly blurry as well. The clouds didn't move. Nothing did... But Thor could feel the pleasantly cool airflow. He inhaled once again and smiled slightly, unable to suppress his joy. It wasn't the best time or place to enjoy anything, but he couldn't help it. Somehow he felt like some kind of a conqueror of heights. He only wished Loki was here with him instead of that cursed place down there. The thoughts of Loki, the fresh, cool air, the open space and the tranquillity gave Thor strength to continue his way. He felt like a lonely adventurer and enjoyed the feeling while he could, knowing that it wouldn't last. Either he would be frustrated by meeting another insuperable obstacle, or too focused on the task at hand and too worried for his brother. For now he felt like he could do just about anything, even if it was nothing but self-deception.

     Thor carefully continued his way. The roof was gabled, but the slope of its two sides was rather slight, so Thor didn't worry that he could slide down, however, he kept closer to the central ridge, just in case. He thought about coming back into the attic through the other dormer he came across, but decided against it. If there were other locked doors, he would have to climb up and out again. Plus, from here he could see the end of the building, so there was a good chance that the roof wasn't 'endless' like all those corridors; he couldn't say the same about the attic, though he simply didn't know and didn't want to waste his time trying to find out.

     He reached the end of the roof and almost sighed in relief. There were no anomalies so far... Carefully he went down to the nearest dormer, making sure he wouldn't stumble, slip or just lose his balance. It was a four-storey building, but it was pretty high due to the high ceilings, plus the attic, so falling down would be undoubtedly fatal. Still, Thor was considering the possibility of somehow finding a way to climb down on the ground and finding a way to the isolated area from the outside of the building, as he had already planned, but couldn't make it because of the locked doors and windows. He left the idea for the future consideration, in case his current attempt would prove itself futile.

     He liked to think that he had some options, even though he had no idea how he would be able to climb down from the roof, unless there was a wall ladder at some external wall of the building. Such ladders usually started at a roof. If this building had any, Thor would have to find it. But, once again, now he had other matters to attend to. Nevertheless, he smiled to himself, thinking that Loki would've approved his foresight. His brother liked having spare plans for most situations; it was his peculiarity.

     He made it into the attic again, after looking at the pale sun (it wasn't even bright enough to really hurt his eyes that by now were pretty used to its light) and taking a deep breath of the cool, fresh air one last time, as he didn't know when he would be able to enjoy all these things again.

     There was nothing special in this part of the attic, and, fortunately, there was another trap door in the floor. Thor hoped that it wasn't locked. It wasn't, so in good spirits he soon found himself down in another staircase, exactly in the part of the building where he needed to be, on the other side of that concrete wall blocking the way. It was the very last staircase in this end of the hospital. Now he could only hope that there would be no more obstacles on the way, including odd anomalies or other walls. After the freshness of the air outside, the light stench of the smoke that saturated the entire building seemed more acute.

     As Thor reached the first floor, he quickly went to the double door, for the first time almost happy to see it, despite Loki's pain in the air. He was glad that nothing had changed since the last time he had been here, so, wasting no time, he went into the room with the dead baby in the jar, purposely refusing to look in her direction, as he was walking towards the door that he had unlocked with the key taken from the tiny, dead hand. He could still feel the nauseating smell of formaldehyde in the air.

     The door was still unlocked, so he entered the corridor that was already familiar. He really hoped that this luck would keep accompanying him. Either the monster was playing with him, once again making him waste his time, or _it_ just wasn't powerful enough to really, once and for all, isolate the entire part of the building where _it_ resided. Maybe _it_ didn't know the building well enough to prevent Thor from getting in this cursed part, so _it_ was blocking the ways _it_ knew Thor had already used. Also, sometimes this place changed in unthinkable, illogical ways, as Thor had already had a 'pleasure' to find out, and he wasn't sure that all of it was entirely the creature's work, so _it_ probably couldn't foresee everything. Who knew... Damn, he really wished to understand how the things worked here.

     In any case, before more ways here were blocked for him, he had to finish everything as soon as possible. Next time the way he had used today would be, most likely, blocked as well, so he had no right to make a mistake or postpone anything. He had to find the creature and deal with _it_ once and for all, no matter the cost. But what was more important, he had to get Loki out of here. He had promised him that. Loki... Thor couldn't fail him. Just couldn't... _'I'm here. Can you feel me?'_

     Via his empathy, Thor was trying to locate his brother. He could feel Loki, as usual, but hadn't found where exactly he was so far. Too soon Thor had decided that the place hadn't changed since his last visit. At some point the familiar corridor had almost suddenly changed into something that resembled a basement; long corridors created a real labyrinth, or at least, to Thor it looked like one, because he had no idea where he was and he couldn't tell if he hadn't been in the same places many times before, or it was just another dimensional anomaly. The corridors were dilapidated and the walls dirty, as well as pipes along the walls and some old wires. The light (coming out of nowhere, obviously) was very dim and sometimes Thor could hardly see anything at all.

     There were rooms on his way, but they all were small and empty or with some old, useless stuff. The only sound Thor could hear was the sound of his own footsteps, his breathing and dripping of water here and there. He felt uncomfortable and definitely not safe here. His body was tensing instinctively the way it always did before the fight, getting ready for defence and taking unexpected blows. It happened every time he had to turn and couldn't see if there was any danger around a corner. The place was like catacombs, and, though he knew it was just a deception of his hard-working senses, sometimes it felt like the passages were becoming unbearably narrow, pressing in on him and making him feel claustrophobic. Sometimes the noise of his breathing and footsteps sounded almost deafening, unless he really tried to be quiet, because noises he made deprived him of the ability to hear anything else, which could be vital.

     Thor just knew he was no longer on the first floor. No, he was under the building, and he had no idea how deep. He wanted to get out of here, but he was lost; really lost. Eventually, he started thinking that he was in a place that no one else knew even existed, and that, if he died here, nobody would even know. He would never be found; neither dead, nor alive.

     The place was driving him insane and he never stopped feeling like he was being watched. And then, before he knew it, he entered the part that was completely dark. It shook Thor out of his haziness and he stopped. Making several steps back, he, once again, found himself in the barely illuminated passage. It was odd, because the darkness couldn't start this abruptly. There should've been a gradual transition between the light and the darkness. But there was nothing like that here. He stepped into the complete darkness once again and stepped back, to make sure his own mind wasn't playing tricks on him. Maybe he had finally lost his mind? On the other hand, it wasn't the first strange thing he'd seen here; far from it. There was no labyrinth of the passages any longer, it had been left behind. Now it seemed he had only one way, - forward, into the darkness. He couldn't give up on his Loki, no matter what. Once again, his time here was limited; if he didn't do what had to be done during this time in this damned place, he probably wouldn't have another chance; he just felt it. He knew it. And then Loki would stay forever trapped in here and Thor would go insane from grief. _'No way in hell'_. He frowned and decidedly stepped into the darkness.

     What happened next was an absolute madness. The mind-blowing, dark emptiness had devoured Thor. He could no longer hear anything at all; not even his own footsteps. He tried to yell, but couldn't hear even that. He could no longer smell the dampness of air or the weak stench of smoke. Everything was gone. Soon his mind was hardly even working. He knew he kept walking forward, but he was sure he'd got lost and there was no end to this odd place, whatever it was. He could hardly feel if there was any floor under his feet. His legs felt feeble; he could hardly feel them at all. Before long the rest of his body felt the same. He forced it to move forward. He wanted to turn back, but he'd absolutely lost the feeling of direction, so he couldn't take a risk. Maybe he wasn't even moving forward or wasn't moving at all. The thought was less than appealing. He really felt like he had stuck in one place and wasn't making any headway at all.

     After the sense of direction had left him, the sense of time followed pretty soon. It felt like many hours of futile attempts to move forward. He didn't feel any danger, he didn't feel like someone else was there in the darkness, but it was possible that his instincts had simply left him together with most other senses. And he could no longer feel Loki's presence, which made him feel especially lonely and lost. That connection to Loki had felt like something to hold onto. The loss of it had created the cold, hollow emptiness inside Thor's soul.

     He didn't know how much time he had already spent here. Sometimes he felt like he was losing consciousness for he didn't know how long. Sometimes he wondered if he was sleeping or already dead, and then he started wondering if he had ever existed at all. Eventually, he stopped wondering and caring about anything...

 

 

 

**11\. Protect Yourself At All Times**

 

     The senses were coming back slowly. At first Thor realised that he was slowly walking forward, so he stopped, feeling too dizzy, disoriented and confused to keep going. Then he felt the smell of dampness and smoke, which was less than pleasant. Who the hell was smoking in his face? Then he started hearing, though there wasn't anything in particular to hear, other than a distant dripping of water and the constant noise that was specific for underground tunnels. The next thing that came back to Thor was his empathy. Loki... He was here for his little brother. The knowledge of it appeared in his heart even before reaching his hazy mind. His chest was swelling with love, tenderness and pain of loss or maybe it was more correct to call it a separation anxiety. He needed Loki... He needed him so much, so desperately, that it hurt everywhere. He wanted to be close to Loki, to be able to touch him, to feel his warmth, to inhale his scent, to feel Loki's heartbeat against his own body; to feel Loki with all his senses, with his entire being, greedily... It was so powerful that he wanted to break down and start wailing from suffering that was tearing at his heart like razor-sharp claws of a huge beast.

"Loki!.." Thor moaned painfully, feeling so overwhelmed that he absolutely couldn't focus. He felt himself reeling, barely able to keep standing on his feet. "I love you, Loki... I love you, I need you..." he sobbed, though no tears escaped his eyes that tried to focus on something, anything.

     For some time Thor was experiencing some kind of a sensory overload, but soon conscious thoughts cleared his mind and forced him to concentrate on what was going on, as well as on becoming aware enough to get ready to continue his way. He was standing in the same, underground passage, damp and dirty. Old pipes and wires along the walls... Thor suddenly thought that the concrete, rust-stained walls that the creature had used to block his ways had been taken from this place somehow, because the walls in these passages were similar. He still couldn't find the source of the very weak light that illuminated his way; very poorly, but he was thankful for having at least this, even though it wasn't much and he wouldn't have minded to have a torch or anything to use as one.  
  
     As Thor had finally stopped reeling and started feeling better, he turned around to see what was behind him. There was the dark emptiness with no gradual transition between the weak light and absolute darkness. Again... At first his heart fell at the thought that while he had been in that odd, unnatural darkness, he had unknowingly turned back and now was standing where he had started, in front of that place. That meant he would have to walk through that dark, disfigured space again. He didn't want to come back there and lose himself completely, not knowing if he would be able to see the light ever again. He cursed quietly. But as he looked around again more carefully, now completely conscious, he found little differences that convinced him that he was on the other side of the darkness, not where he had begun.

     He had made it...

     But what was he supposed to do now? He didn't know where to go. On the other hand, his empathy was detecting Loki better here, so now Thor could try to follow it.

     He had no idea how much time he had spent in that abnormal darkness, but the time he spent after that, wandering in the endless tunnels, felt like many hours. Thor was tired and angry. He had a feeling he had been walking in circles all this time. What was worse, he couldn't locate his little brother, even feeling that he was somewhere close. Thor didn't know what to think. Was it the place itself, this damned hospital, or it was the creature's handiwork? The monster had probably lured him here to make him waste his time. Next time he would start all over again on the upper floor after the creature had already taken care of blocking the remained ways. And everything would be lost. Thor just knew he wouldn't have another chance. It was now or never. He was too livid to go on like this.

"I've had enough of your fucking games!" he roared. His booming voice seemed to have rolled throughout the entire place, sounding almost deafening even to his own ears. "Show yourself and fight me! What's the matter, are you so pathetic that you can't even face me on your own playground?! Show yourself, you fucking coward! Are you afraid of a human who wants to fight you?! Your friends in hell must be splitting their sides with laughter!" he taunted. "Come on! It must be so exhausting to build all those walls just to keep me away! Don't you want to finish this at once?! I'm here to take my Loki away! He's mine! **Mine**!" Thor kept roaring furiously and possessively. "You will only have him through my dead body! So come on!" And that was when the smell of smoke was becoming more acute and intense. The creature was approaching... He also felt Loki's presence better and closer. Had Loki heard him, too? It was very likely that he had.

     Thor didn't have to wait long. The passage suddenly became wider and there were closed doors in the changed walls. Actually, it reminded him of one of those two similar corridors behind the double door, though the doors here were on both sides, instead of only one. Thor was mentally preparing himself to whatever was going to happen. The acrid smoke was hanging in the air, not too thick, though it didn't let Thor see far enough, but, at the same time, it wasn't too obscuring. Thor was listening carefully and looking around to make sure no one would be able to sneak up on him. And then he heard _it_. He heard _its_ wheezing, heavy breathing, but couldn't fathom where the noise was coming from. It seemed to be everywhere and nowhere. Finally, he noticed that in about ten metres away from him there was a cloud of curling smoke, darker and much thicker than the smoky fog all over the place. Thor was carefully watching the smoke slowly forming the thin demonic figure made of flesh that emitted the smoke from the pores of _its_ obscured body.

     Despite his rage Thor made sure he was watching his back, in case it was a trap. Who knew what was on the creature's mind. It was the same ugly creature, quite tall, stooped, with long arms (or they seemed long because the creature was stooped) and slightly bent knees. _It_ lifted _its_ head. Thor couldn't see its face, if _it_ had any, behind the curling smoke, but he could perfectly see the thick orange dot that suddenly lit up in the centre of it. As usual, it looked pretty ominous in the semi-darkness. Unable to see the monster's face and therefore any facial expressions, Thor, for some reason, decided that _it_ was looking at him with curiosity, which was probably a result of the taunts and threats he'd roared earlier. _Its_ arms attracted Thor's attention as _it_ moved them slightly and slowly though they were still hanging down. After that, the arms, from the elbows and all the way down to the sharp fingertips slowly started glowing and very soon became red-hot at the elbows and even hotter down to the fingers that now looked almost white-hot. It resembled the creature's glowing 'eye'.

     Thor wasn't in the mood to find out what the monster was up to; in mere moments he crossed the distance between the monster and himself with a few long, rapid strides, and attacked. He struck a crushing blow right to the side of the creature's head. A regular opponent would've been knocked down and would've probably got a serious head trauma, receiving such a powerful blow of Thor's bare fist. But _it_ wasn't a regular opponent, far from it. Nevertheless, the blow had obviously confused the monster and made _it_ reel for a few seconds. Luckily, _it_ really had a flesh, obscured by all that smoke. If Thor had had any doubts before, which he hadn't had much anyway, now he had none left. Flesh could be hit and damaged, and beaten up to a pulp (which Thor was very eager to do at the moment). The creature drew in a heavy wheezing breath that distantly resembled a growl.

     Unfortunately, Thor didn't have a chance to hit the monster again, because _it_ forestalled him. He absolutely hadn't expected _it_ to attack him with such a speed. Before he knew it, the creature grabbed his shoulder with an iron grasp of _its_ white-hot hand. The agony that its burn caused was unspeakable, and though it was concentrated where the creature's hand was holding him, it travelled throughout his entire body, paralysing it. His very bones felt like they were aflame, and his blood was running through his veins like a liquid fire. The pain was shocking, so shocking that he couldn't even scream. The next moment he found himself on the floor where the creature had thrown him. Thor inhaled sharply, trying to overcome the pain and clear his mind from it.

"So... this is how... you hurt him, you scum? I'm going to kill you or die trying," he growled with pure hatred. _It_ had done it to his Loki, hadn't it? _It_ had burned him... The monster didn't look impressed by Thor's threat. _It_ was just standing there, looking at Thor sceptically; so sceptically that _it_ didn't bother to keep attacking him whilst waiting for him to get up and do something worthy of _its_ attention.

     There was a big burnt-out hole in Thor's t-shirt. The edges of the hole were still smouldering a little. It was revealing a serious, dark-red and very painful burn on his shoulder. It would undoubtedly leave a prominent scar. Thor couldn't let it bother him right now though, despite the pain that intensified every time he moved his arm and the burnt skin stretched. At the same time, Thor felt feverish and cold, though this feeling wasn't new near the creature. The young man, once again, wondered if that was how the cold of approaching death felt. The combination of the searing pain and that ante-mortem cold made it hard to focus, so he tried really hard to collect himself.

     Getting up rather quickly and ready to fight back, Thor suddenly saw Loki, who was looking back **at him** with a deep concern and sadness. He was standing in one of the doorways, half-hiding behind the doorframe. Unlike all the previous times they had met in this hospital, Loki was looking straight at him. His little brother looked even more emaciated and exhausted than the last time Thor had seen him. It was like he was being slowly drained of everything. It made Thor hate the creature even more if it was even possible. When the monster slowly turned _its_ face (if one could call it that) towards the smaller human, _its_ body almost stopped moving, as _its_ attention was fully riveted on Loki. Thor absolutely hated the way the creature was looking at his younger brother. _It_ was practically radiating lust and hunger. Thor nearly exploded in rage at the mere sight of it. Loki froze. Seeing the creature looking at him like this, he became as pale as a ghost, and it seemed he couldn't even move, paralysed with terror. He actually looked like he was about to die from fear.

     When the creature slowly started moving in his direction, he still kept standing there in terror, holding onto the door jamb. Enraged, Thor attacked the creature and hit the back of _its_ head with his fist. This fight had no rules and this opponent deserved no respect. The monster reeled forward, but didn't fall.

"Loki! Loki, run, I won't let _it_ follow you!" Thor shouted. His voice seemed to have snapped Loki out of his stupor a little. He started moving backwards slowly, his eyes full of fear. When he disappeared out of sight, Thor almost smiled to himself. The farther away Loki was from here, the better.

     The creature, however, didn't take it well. Before _it_ fully turned to Thor he managed to deliver several more blows to _its_ head. _Its_ breathing resembled a guttural growling now. The human flew into a rage and hit the monster again and again, and again, ignoring the pain in his slightly bleeding, split knuckles and the burnt shoulder. The blows affected the monster, but not as they would've affected a human, who would have long been lying on the floor unconscious (or dead) with their skull cracked, most likely.

     Once again, Thor failed to react quickly as one of the white-hot hands grabbed him. It seemed he was blacking out for a few moments before _its_ attacks, so it wasn't about _its_ speed, it was about Thor's mind briefly becoming confused and incapable of reacting fast enough. This time _it_ grabbed his throat and squeezed it. The pain was far beyond any pain Thor had ever felt, he was sure of it. He couldn't breathe. His entire body was burning and now his airways felt like he was choking on molten iron.

     But while his mind couldn't work properly, consumed by the agony, his well-trained body and his survival instinct helped him to get out of the creature's burning grasp by once again hitting _its_ head again and again until the pain made _it_ let go and back away. _Its_ breathing made it clear that the monster was in pain, though it was hardly comparable to the pain that Thor was feeling right now. While the human was having a fit of cough and was making his best effort to quickly recover mentally, as well as to recover his breath and overcome his dizziness, the monster stubbornly headed to the doorway to follow Loki. Perhaps, Thor's blows somewhat deprived _it_ of its logic, if _it_ had had any in the first place, but the blond couldn't have it in any case. The blind rage, birthed from the fact that the monster wanted to follow Loki again, quickly overshadowed Thor's pain.

"Leave him the fuck alone, you freak!" he roared huskily, delivering another powerful blow of his fist before the creature had even reached that doorway. Maybe Thor would've been really scared if he wasn't so livid and in so much pain. He wrestled the creature and hit _it_ with all his might over and over again. The monster, in turn, was burning him or scratching him with _its_ sharp, white-hot fingertips, leaving deep, burned wounds. Thor was half-conscious from both pain and fury, and probably from the acrid smoke that was filling his lungs every time he inhaled, but it wasn't making him stop thinking of Loki's safety. He hoped his little brother would be able to find a way out of here, with Thor or without him, in case the older of the two died together with the creature (and he'd already started suspecting that he wouldn't be able to come out of this alive). He only wanted Loki to be safe, far away from here.

     At any rate, he would kill the monster, and _it_ would no longer keep Loki trapped in this place. Loki had told him once, that _it_ didn't let him go. Thor had to put it to an end, even if he wouldn't survive it.

     It took him several long seconds to realise that he was no longer fighting. He was sitting on the floor on his knees and he was once again coughing. The smell of the smoke, as well as the smell of his own severely burnt flesh was overwhelming. He had to attack again. To hell with his pain, to hell with his death that was, most likely, awaiting him today. Thor no longer truly cared about himself and his fate. He'd almost resigned to the thought that he was going to die soon, even though the realisation of it made him feel a lump in his burned throat.

     Meanwhile, the creature was standing several metres away from him. _It_ was swaying, breathing harder than ever. _It_ had fallen on the floor never once so far, but now it looked like _it_ was about to collapse. But _it_ was too strong to be defeated like this. Nevertheless, _it_ needed time, obviously feeling dizzy from all the blows _it_ had received in _its_ head. Thor had spared no strength hitting it.

     He was too weak and injured to attack immediately, but he knew the next round would start in no time and the monster would, most likely, attack first. He tried to get up, but ended up falling back on his knees. He needed time, but he didn't have any. So... It meant death then.

     Suddenly Thor saw something out of the corner of his eye and heard some noise. His vision was blurry, but, as he turned his head, ready to defend himself from whatever was going to attack him, he saw Loki and his heart almost fell. Why hadn't his little brother listened to him?! Why hadn't he tried to leave this cursed place as Thor had told him?! That stubborn brat... But then he saw Loki dragging something heavy along the floor. It was so heavy that the boy couldn't lift it up. Thor forced himself to focus and saw... his sledgehammer! Loki was dragging it to him, holding the handle as the heavy head remained on the floor. The dark-haired youth was shaking in fear, too close to his torturer, and when he reached Thor, he hid behind his older brother falling on his knees behind the shield of muscles.

     The blond took the sledgehammer, still shocked by what was going on. The lean arms embraced him carefully from behind, obviously trying not to hurt his terrible burns even more. Thor could feel his little brother's shaky breathing against his upper back, where Loki was pressing his face. The smaller body was trembling. But, despite the situation, for the first time in long time, Thor felt almost content. He put his hand on the smaller two, connected on his muscled chest. Once again, the older young man started feeling a sensory overload, and he could distinguish love and care as the predominant feelings. They were Loki's and they were flooding him, so immeasurable and deep, to the point of being limitless. There also was worry and fear for both of them. Thor could feel it all via his empathy.

     The pain and exhaustion were starting to ease, and it felt like Thor had been given a second wind. The lean arms around him felt like they were starting to weaken, but they kept holding him, nonetheless. The bigger hand in turn kept holding the smaller ones. These small, trembling hands were so cold... Thor wanted to warm them so badly. He was feeling stronger now, whereas Loki, on the contrary, was practically resting against his back in exhaustion, as if... As if he'd given his own power to the older of the two of them, reducing his pain considerably and giving him the strength to keep fighting.

     But then Thor noticed that the creature slowly started moving towards them. _Its_ body was jerking. _It_ looked injured, but hunger- or lust-crazed, at the same time. Thor felt like _it_ was staring right through him at Loki, and _it_ looked like _it_ would've given anything and everything to grab the younger of the two humans. Thor wasn't about to let it happen. He felt Loki pressing himself even harder against him in search for protection.

"Loki, we have to get up. Stay behind me and close to me, but not too close. Can you make it?" Thor murmured softly, though he kept watching the creature, ready to fight _it_ any moment now. He felt a nod against the nape of his neck, as Loki's face was still buried in the blond mane.

     In no time Thor was on his feet, quickly helping his brother to stand up as well, though his eyes never left their enemy. _It_ **really** wanted to get Loki. _It_ couldn't even properly focus on the obstacle, which was Thor. The blond, meanwhile, took the sledgehammer in his both hands. But when he swung his heavy weapon, it went right through the creature that suddenly became just a cloud of smoke that was slowly dissipating.

"Stay close to me, Loki!" Thor warned and pressed the smaller body to his own back again by moving one of his arms behind himself blindly. He remained on the alert, focused on their surroundings with the sledgehammer at the ready, once again in his both hands. However, the attack was too quick even for his quick reaction. In mere moments the creature materialised from the cloud of smoke right next to Loki and grabbed the boy's arm right above his elbow and tried to pull him away from his older brother. Loki's bloodcurdling scream of pain and shock sent shivers down Thor's spine, but he reacted with the speed of lightning, and with a furious roar brought the sledgehammer down on the top of the monster's head, putting a great amount of strength into the hit. There was a cracking noise of breaking bones, and it sounded sickening. The force of the hit brought the monster down and _it_ once again dissipated in the air. _Its_ deafening hoarse gasp could be heard everywhere around the two humans. Loki was moaning in pain behind Thor, but the blond couldn't be distracted right now even to comfort his little brother.

     The monster appeared once again on the other side of the two youths this time, and tried to grab Loki again. Thor growled and the head of his sledgehammer hit the creature's shoulder before _it_ had a chance to touch Loki. And then _it_ appeared and disappeared again and again, so fast that _it_ didn't give Thor enough time to hit _it_. At the same time, the blond wasn't letting _it_ anywhere near his brother again. The monster made him move around quite a lot.

     Once again, the heavy hammer hit the wall, making the shards of the broken tiles fly in all directions, as the creature had disappeared once more in front of Thor. He was about to go berserk. He growled furiously, trying to hit the monster. But then he subdued his rage a little and started thinking. He knew this kind of opponents. They tried to wear you down or both wear you down and infuriate you, just to find a good moment to hit you so hard that you wouldn't be able to react in time; and then, using your confusion, they would hit you again and again. Thor wasn't going to buy it now. The need to be cautious enough to be able to keep protecting Loki helped the blond man to keep his mind more or less clear. He was used to looking only after himself during a fight, but now it was different; so, no, he couldn't allow himself to go berserk, even if he was very angry. And he, most definitely, **was**.

     It took a more or less calculated swing of the sledgehammer to knock the monster down, as Thor had somewhat figured out the pattern of _its_ appearance and disappearance (or, more accurately, the small signs that preceded _its_ appearances), and when _it_ was material enough to be damaged. When the dark, stooped body was on the floor, Thor, without wasting a moment, started to deliver a blow after a crushing blow of the sledgehammer to make sure _it_ wouldn't get up again. _It_ was wheezing loudly, already wounded too gravely to do anything. _It_ was dying.

     Thor only stopped attacking the creature when _it_ had stopped writhing and breathing. _Its_ glowing eye and arms went off slowly. Thor was standing over _it_ , frowning down on _it_ and trying to recover his breath. For a few short moments the monster stirred and reached out _its_ once again slightly glowing hand in Loki's direction, which startled the boy, making him flinch and press himself against Thor even harder. The blond protectively shielded his younger brother with his muscled body. He had been right, thinking that even dying, the creature would've tried to get Loki. The monster's hand fell on the floor and stopped glowing. _It_ was gone.

     There was only smoke left of _it_. It became darker and even more acrid. It started filling the corridor. Thor was soon coughing, as well as Loki next to him. They had to get out of here. Loki tugged him weakly to one of the closed doors. He opened it and they entered another corridor. The smoke followed them, filling everything and choking the two young men that were trying to escape it. Even the door that they had closed behind themselves didn't help to block its path. Eventually, Loki opened another door and Thor noticed his brother's hesitancy before they entered the room. It was the room with the refrigerators, the mortuary; the one where the creature had hurt him. Even now that the monster was dead, he was terrified of this place. Thor wrapped his arm around him soothingly and encouraged him to keep going. It didn't escape the blond's attention that they had entered through the door that hadn't been here before, though when he had been in this room last time, he had thought that this door should've been exactly on this place of the wall.

     However, now it wasn't the best time to think about it anyway. The room was barely illuminated (where the hell the dim light was coming from? Why hadn't it been here when Thor had needed it?), but they reached the other door in no time. And then there were several steps up to the double door with the two round windows... Thor didn't look forward to moving up to the roof and dragging Loki there with him, but, fortunately, it wasn't necessary; the corridor of the first floor was no longer blocked, so, escaping the stench of the smoke, they found no obstacles on the way to the main exit of the hospital. Thor's arm was still around his brother, the other one was still holding the sledgehammer, which he had taken with him just in case.

     Halfway to the exit Loki was so exhausted that it looked like he was about to collapse. He had given his strength to Thor... Without thinking twice or hardly even stopping at all, the older of the two picked up the smaller youth in his arms, placing the sledgehammer on top of him, and moved to the exit as fast as he could, having the extra weight in his arms. It reminded him of something... But there was no way he could think about it right now. They had to leave this place as soon as possible. They could hardly breathe already.

     The half-hearted push of his foot easily opened the entrance doors of the hospital, and Thor was nearly overwhelmed by the freshness of the air outside as he was recovering his breath. The smoke remained inside the building. Even though most things around looked like mirages, and the farther they were, the less real they seemed, this place in front of the hospital was perfectly real. The pale, weak sun was still shining down, just like when Thor had been on the rooftop.

     It was over. He had done it, hadn't he? The creature was dead and Loki was safely cradled in his arms. But, suddenly, the feeling of déjà vu hit him like a stream of scalding water down his back. It had happened before... He had carried Loki out of this hospital before. Now he was afraid to look down at his little brother, his mind was suddenly sending him the blurry visions of Loki's naked, hurt, impossibly pale body that Thor was carrying in his arms in the same manner. There was blood... It was on Loki's bruised face, in his hair. Loki was unconscious. Thor's breath hitched in his throat at those images. He just couldn't look down... But then he felt his beloved burden shifting a little in his arms and he looked down automatically. Loki was fine in his arms, looking up at him. Alive and almost unharmed, except for his burnt arm and general exhaustion. He looked shaken up, but the green eyes kept looking up at the older young man with slight curiosity in them. The head of the sledgehammer was lying on his shoulder and the handle was partially on his chest, held by the pale hand. Thor almost chuckled at this image.

     There was a feeling of uneasiness when both of them looked back at the building. The ominous, grey, albeit not really thick now, smoke could be seen behind all of the windows of all the floors of the hospital. But it was trapped inside and already dispersing. It was no threat any longer. They were safe.

     Thor carefully eased Loki onto the ground, putting the hammer aside. He sat down and wrapped his arms around his younger brother, carefully avoiding his burn. His own burns looked only a little better now, but he could hardly feel any pain. There was some unpleasant tightening in them though, but it didn't bother him. Both young men were sitting on the pavement, and neither of them cared about this fact.

"Thor..." Loki suddenly whispered.

"Yes?" the blond murmured, a little surprised to hear his brother's voice again, though it was definitely a pleasant surprise (for once).

"We... we will never part," the younger of the two said quietly. It sounded more like a question, though. Loki needed a confirmation.

"We won't," Thor replied, nodding.

"Promise me," Loki whispered. There was a soft demand in his whisper, but behind that was desperation. He needed the answer and, for some reason, it was **very** important. Thor looked into the wide green eyes that watched him searchingly.

"I swear," he replied firmly enough that his answer appeared to be a given, and he was having no doubt that he was telling the truth.

"I will hold you to that, you know... You can't take it back."

"All right," the blond shrugged, still failing to understand what was going on. But if Loki needed to be reassured, Thor was willing to give it to him.

"Thank you... I love you, Thor," Loki whispered hardly audible. The whisper was like a caress and Thor melted into it. He was sure he heard his brother sighing in relief. But before he could reply, everything was gone...

 

     The awakening was slow. Thor's mind was swimming for a long time, his body, comfortably resting in the warm bed, refused to obey. But, as soon as his mind started working somewhat properly, he realised where he was and what had just happened. His dream was still fresh in his still a little hazy mind. He had saved his dream Loki. Loki from his dream was finally safe... He felt almost ecstatic, but he knew he couldn't allow himself to feel it. That dream had been nothing but some kind of a wish fulfilment that his subconsciousness had given him as an outlet. Loki had been in trouble and Thor saved him, because he was able to do it; because he hated helplessness and inability to fight for what he held dear. Those dreams had given him an illusion that he could help Loki, fight for him, save him... But those were just dreams, no matter how impossibly vivid and realistic they had been. Just an outlet.

     The reality was nothing like that. Loki was traumatised beyond imagination, unresponsive, mentally ill.... And there was absolutely nothing Thor could do about it. He was helpless... Once they came back from Denmark, his baby brother would be taken away from him. They would stuff him with medication, stick needles into him; they would, most likely, administer electric shock to his brain, as doctor had mentioned during their phone conversation. He'd heard about the way it affected people's minds; sometimes it caused amnesia, erasing memories either before, or after the treatment. For fuck's sake, people used to lose **years** of memories because of this kind of treatment! And there was no guarantee that it was going to help anything. Plus, he couldn't stop imagining it as something painful, side effects or not, no matter what doctors said. He didn't want to even start imagining the one he loved being subjected to anything like that.

     He was going to lose Loki forever, in any case... He just knew it; once they took him away, he would lose him to never have him back... Thor shouldn't feel happy just because he had played a hero in his dreams. In reality he was nothing like that. In reality he was just a grief-stricken, helpless man, who couldn't do a fucking thing to save the one he loved more than he would ever be able to put into words. He was torn between feeling triumphant, guilty for feeling triumphant and overwhelmingly despaired, because the triumph had been caused by something that wasn't real.

     He clenched his blanket in his fist and closed his eyes tight. It was madness! His mind was about to break from all the misery he was feeling right now. He could take a lot of pain, but not this one. He couldn't...

     But then...

"Thor... Dark..." Barely a whisper, but it was like a bolt from the blue. Thor was wondering if he had finally gone mental or if, at best, the remains of his dream hadn't let go of him yet. But, as no common sense seemed to have left in his head, his body was up in a moment to turn on all the lights in the room. His muscular legs were like leaden and it was a wonder they hadn't failed under him yet. He hadn't been sleeping with any lights on lately, since Loki had stopped caring about anything, including this, and Thor usually preferred sleeping in complete darkness.

     With his heart almost becoming still in his chest, Thor turned towards Loki's bed, expecting to see an evidence of his own insanity and finally admit that his mind was lost irretrievably. Loki was sitting on his bed with his face looking down. It proved nothing, because the dark-haired boy could even get up and walk, remaining unresponsive. Thor approached him, sat down onto the edge of his bed and gently took the pale face in his own hands.

"Loki..." he whispered, his heart was stuttering in hope, which he knew was, most likely, a false one. "Look at me," he said quietly. The hazy, green eyes blinked (which still proved nothing) and slowly moved up to meet the blue ones. And that was when Thor finally broke down. With the tears, running down his face he started kissing the confused face of his little brother. He kissed it all over, including the warm, thin lips. Weak and groggy, the younger of the two didn't seem to understand what was going on. His hand was holding onto Thor's t-shirt and it looked like he couldn't decide if he should try to get out of the arms of his overly-affectionate brother, who wasn't giving him a chance to actually understand anything at all.

"You're back... You're back to me." The blond couldn't believe it, so he found it necessary to say it aloud.

     Even when his eyes seemed to have stopped being capable of producing any more tears, he didn't let go of Loki. Sometimes he gently took the smooth narrow chin in his hand, lifting the boy's face only to urge his younger brother to look back at him. And Loki did. His green eyes weren't clear, they were rather distant, but he was looking back, making the older of the two tighten his embrace. To Thor it was like Loki's soul had come back into his body after the long months of absence.

"Thor..." He suddenly heard against his shoulder and looked down at the smaller youth. It was still a miracle to hear his voice again.

"Hmm?" He carefully combed his fingers through the dark hair waiting for his brother to say something else. It looked like it was hard for Loki to collect his thoughts enough to say anything conscious.

"I think... I'm hungry," he finally managed to say after some more time and a couple of failed attempts. His words were quiet and not entirely coherent, but it was such a great progress that Thor couldn't hold back a huge, happy smile. He immediately took the phone and ordered Loki's favourite fish dishes and mozzarella. Thankfully, the restaurant of the hotel was open twenty four hours, so the food was delivered pretty soon. Thor would've found a way to get dancing elephants into their room if Loki wanted them.

     The blond watched his brother carefully, each little movement. Loki didn't look like he was enjoying the food much. And it looked like it was hard for him to eat and remember how to swallow, probably because he mostly had been fed through the nasogastric tube for quite a long time. At the same time, it was quite possible that his senses weren't properly working yet, which included the sense of taste. Thor's eyes never left him, but the younger of the two didn't seem to care or notice. He had hardly eaten anything at all before putting the fork down.

     He still looked like he was 'turning off' sometimes, and Thor felt uneasy every time it happened, afraid that all the significant progress would just be gone with a blink of an eye. He wanted to shake Loki, to force him to stay completely conscious all the time, but he knew it wouldn't be good to push his little brother too hard. Despite the fact that the morning hadn't come yet, Thor picked up his phone and rang Ingibjörg. It took him some time to wake her up and answer the call, and, without explaining anything (he wasn't sure he could), he asked her to come as soon as possible. Probably hearing how nervous he was, the nurse promised to come in about twenty minutes.

     He wanted her to examine Loki, knowing that she was capable of doing it, even though she wasn't a doctor, and tell him that his baby brother was back to stay with him (at least this was what he hoped to hear). Since they were far away from the doctor who had been observing Loki, Thor had no other option, and, frankly, he trusted Ingibjörg more than that doctor, no matter how foolish of him it was.

     Whilst waiting for her, the blond embraced his brother again and let him rest against his strong body.

"Loki..." he said quietly and waited for his brother to acknowledge him. He addressed Loki once again, as no answer had followed.

"Yes?.." the dark-haired boy murmured, though it had taken him some time to react.

"Do you remember having any dreams lately? Anything strange?" Maybe it was too soon for such questions, but he had to ask.

"...Don't remember... No..." Loki replied softly and sleepily.

"I see..."

 

 

 

**12\. Just A Coincidence**

 

     It had taken Loki more than one week to be able to really focus on anything. He still tended to suddenly become absent-minded for some time, but it was possible to shake him out of that state, though he was never happy when someone did it to him, to matter how gentle it was. He hated that his mind was out of his control at times, and he couldn't help but take out his irritation on other people, mainly on Thor and Ingibjörg, - the only people that were spending time with him, since he knew nobody else here in Denmark, so it was they who endured Loki's moodiness. Ingibjörg wasn't a new person for him. He was aware of the fact that he'd known her for some time, though he mostly remembered feelings that were related to her than any actual occasions. He knew her voice and he knew she had been taking care of him, but he hardly knew anything else about her consciously; he felt that, without being attached to her, he somewhat trusted her, nevertheless.

     But he didn't appreciate when both Thor and Ingibjörg were fussing over him. To him they seemed too loud and hyperactive. Sometimes he couldn't even follow when they were talking to him, so they often had to repeat things they tried to tell him. Really, were they expecting him to be ecstatic or something? His mind was still a little blurry, so he couldn't share their good mood. He needed rest. A lot of rest. At the same time, he was willing to participate when the nurse was doing some exercises for his mind with him, to help him to recover sooner. She was encouraging, but not annoying when he failed to do some exercises and felt stupid and frustrated with himself.

     He was happy to hear his mother's voice as she had rung Thor and asked him to give the phone to Loki. He missed a good half of what exactly she was telling him, but hearing the timbre of her voice was pleasant and made him feel warm and content, as if he was a little boy again. She seemed to know it, so he was relieved that she never insisted for him to answer, letting him listen to her, instead. He would've kept melting at her voice if she was lecturing him about the niceties of nuclear physics or describing the pattern of the carpet on the floor of their living room in minute detail. He would have listened to anything she told him, with or without understanding it, because her voice felt like a warm blanket that cocooned him cosily.

 

***

 

     His phone talk with the family doctor (not the psychiatrist, with whom Loki would also have to talk soon) was much less pleasant, though. Loki was a little more coherent when the man rang him to find out how he was from Loki himself. The doctor said that it would be nice if the youth came back home as soon as possible to be thoroughly examined by the psychiatrist and other specialists. He also said that they would have to do some tests in addition to those that had already been done long ago, since Loki had been raped and enough time had passed to reveal any possible sexually transmitted diseases that hadn't been revealed before, if he had any. The doctor said he was sure that everything was going to be fine and they needed to do it just to make sure; he was quite tactful about it, but for Loki this subject was pretty painful. He'd started having flashbacks of what had been done to him in that dark mortuary. He was almost glad that his mind had been practically shut down for such a long time after what had happened. He wasn't sure how he would've been able to even start coping with that horrible experience if he had been conscious right after that. Even though he had been 'away' for quite a while, he still felt that the rape and the torture had taken place months ago, not yesterday, not a few days ago.

     But it still hurt...

     The talk with the doctor had upset him very much and he didn't feel like coming home. And he absolutely didn't feel like talking to police, which he knew would be required of him. Not only he would have to give some details, which he didn't want to give, but he also didn't want to say that his mind had been so damaged by shock and terror that he hadn't been sure that the one who had assaulted him was even a human. He still didn't know what to think. When he was forcing his logic to work he could understand what had caused him to think about being attacked by something that wasn't a human being. When he was having panic attacks because of his phobia, he could experience a tunnel vision or hallucinations, his perception could be distorted, and so on. But when he was remembering what he had heard and what little he had seen back then, his heart was freezing in his chest.

     He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to remember, didn't want to voice any of it in the presence of strangers or not strangers. He didn't want to talk to the psychiatrist about it, nor did he want to talk to the police. He wanted nothing to do with that at all, even for the sake of founding and arresting the rapist. He would be much more comfortable with the idea that a nameless and faceless person was free than gained a name, a face and revealed what he had done to Loki, his confessions written down or filmed. It was scary, painful and humiliating to the point that Loki sometimes wanted his mind to shut down once again only to stop thinking about all of that, only to stop feeling violated and tainted. He felt too vulnerable to be in the centre of any attention. Nobody should've ever found out about it at all!

     Sometimes he started thinking about running away and leaving everything, including his family, behind; and then hiding somewhere where no one knew him and what had happened to him, so he wouldn't have felt this shame; he would try to pretend that nothing had happened to him. And, in that case, he wouldn't have to talk to anybody, giving any details on how he had been brutalised: frightened, molested, raped, burned... How he had been sure that the assailant had been murdering him and his life was about to be ended; that he was about to stop existing...

     When he was too deep in his fears and concerns, only the familiar warm, muscular embrace could make him relax and concentrate on his present, as if Thor knew when Loki was hurting inside.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to. You don't have to talk to anyone you don't want to talk to," Thor once told him after Loki's another descent into his painful thoughts; his fears and insecurities. Loki couldn't help but give him a shocked look. Thor had always loved him (okay, Loki had had some doubts back when the blond's good nature had been overshadowed by his arrogance, but it hadn't lasted), had always meant well, but since when the older of the two had become **this** empathetic? Loki hadn't expected his older brother to understand him so well in this particular situation, even though they had never discussed it. He had never shared his thoughts about it and his feelings that were akin to a huge, heavy stone tied to his neck. And his older brother never insisted him to share.

     The next hour Loki spent sobbing into the blond's strong shoulder, which was something he hadn't expected of himself and suspected that he would feel ashamed for it some time later. But he couldn't stop; he was inconsolable. Thor's arms made him feel safe and protected from everything and everyone. Loki wasn't guilty of what had happened to him, and yet he would be the one to face the consequences, one way or another. He wasn't ready for it, he wasn't sure he would ever be; he didn't want to. Holding onto Thor felt like being kept away from all of it.

 

***

 

     As Thor entered their anteroom after returning from his training session and saw Ingibjörg reading some medical magazine, he opened his mouth to speak, but the woman forestalled him without even tearing her eyes away from her reading:

"Yes, he's still sleeping, just as he was fifteen minutes ago when you last rang and asked me about it. And yes, I've checked. The baby is in the bedroom, sleeping," she assured. Thor rolled his eyes and couldn't contain a smile. He knew he had been rather annoying, but he had been worried since Loki had broken down yesterday, crying heartbrokenly into Thor's shoulder for a good hour, shaking all over and falling apart completely, until he had become semiconscious from exhaustion. And he hadn't talked to Thor since then, which was upsetting and made the blond man seriously concerned. At the same time, there was nothing really unusual about Loki's reaction, because it was a little untypical of him to search for a comfort like that, to be pitied and soothed. Even when Loki had been a child, it had been more like him to lie that he'd been having a running nose or something in his eye than to admit that he had been crying, hiding from everybody's eyes; even when everybody knew that he was lying, and even when **he** knew that they knew that he was lying.

     Despite that knowledge, Thor felt concerned about him; his brother was hurt. He had been crying and wailing his pain and grief out into Thor's shoulder and chest, but the blond knew that there was a lot more of it left in Loki. And Thor had been lost and helpless, only capable of giving some comfort, embracing the boy with one arm to hold him tight and support his weight, and rubbing the shuddering back between the little shoulder blades with his other hand, feeling a choking lump in his throat and hurting for his little brother to the point of numbness.

"I see. Thanks," he mumbled, remembering that he was talking to the nurse. "So everything's fine then?"

"He's been a little moody today, but nothing extreme. We had a little problem with taking our pills and eating our breakfast." the woman informed mater-of-factly, finally looking up at Thor.

"But nothing seems to discourage you, right?" he chuckled. Loki must have been really difficult today. And he was unbearable and nearly impossible to deal with when he was like that, Thor knew it very well.

"Pfft... One of the patients under my care used to throw dishes with his meals in my face, and demanded to bring him alcohol all the time. He refused to eat, drink, get up and talk to his family, because he certainly wasn't getting any alcohol. And somehow I managed to deal with the rowdy and do my job, which included feeding him, while he liked to imagine he was still having his hunger strike. And that wasn't even the worst case I've had in my practice, believe me. So I'm sure that I'm competent and experienced enough to handle a grumpy and sulky teen perfectly fine; especially a naive child who thinks he can scare me away by snarling and scowling at me or demonstratively ignoring me."

"I will probably have to take lessons from you," Thor sighed, smiling sadly.

"Any time," she shrugged, smirking.

     When Ingibjörg had left, Thor entered the bedroom quietly and approached Loki's bed. The younger youth was sleeping peacefully, lying on his side, with one hand under his cheek, the other one in front of his face on the pillow. The light blanket was covering him almost all the way up to the neck. His dark hair looked beautiful on the white pillowcase. A couple of days ago the two thin strands of grey hair, left after the night of terror that Loki had endured, had disappeared. Thor didn't have heart to ask what had happened to those two strands, but he suspected that Loki had cut them off at the roots, obviously wanting to get rid of everything possible that tied him to the horrible experience, even if it wasn't enough, even if it was for the time being, because those two strands would grow out again. He would get rid of them again, just to give himself a short moment to indulge in the illusion that nothing bad had happened to him or that he can undo it somehow. Loki needed that illusion to cope, because he wasn't ready to face everything.

     Thor kneeled near the side of the bed to take a better look at his brother's relaxed face. The blond's gaze traced the elegant, dark eyebrows and the thin eyelids that were hiding the green eyes underneath them. Thor could see the pupils slightly moving under the thin, fair skin, which was still a little bit swollen after the yesterday's breakdown. The dark, thin, eyelashes, sometimes faintly fluttering, were resting against the pale cheeks. Thor liked Loki's sharp, high cheekbones that had only revealed themselves when Loki had lost all his baby fat about two years ago, though when the boy's face was relaxed, the cheekbones seemed flatter and lower. The pale, thin lips were very slightly parted, letting the air go in and out between them.

     Thor loved this beautiful face; he loved everything about it... He suppressed the urge to reach out and touch the smooth skin of its side. It had been okay to do it when his brother had been catatonic, but now the boy would, most likely, wake up, and the blond didn't want to disturb his sleep.

     He quietly left the bedroom and picked up his mobile phone to ring Sif and talk to her for some time. She had been watching all his fights, as well as all the other fights of the competition, online, and together they enjoyed discussing it. Iceland was going to take the third place, most definitely, which wasn't bad at all, and it definitely wasn't Thor's fault that they wouldn't take a higher place this year. He had done well, and nobody could say otherwise.

     Today's phone talk with Sif had reminded him that in a few days Loki and he were going to come back home, and Thor wasn't sure if it was good for his brother. There were going to be things that would remind Loki of what had happened to him; not that he really needed to be reminded of it, but still... The blond hoped that Loki's emotional condition wouldn't get worse.

     He returned to their bedroom. Loki was just waking up and stretched himself, his face sleepy. Thor sat down onto his own bed, looking at the younger youth.

"Hi... Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Hi. Uh-huh," Loki replied, his voice thick from sleep. _'Thank goodness, we're speaking again,'_ Thor smiled to himself, though wisely decided to leave it unvoiced.

"Good dreams?" he asked instead.

"I don't remember having any today. What's wrong? Why are you asking me about my dreams again?"

"Just curious," Thor shrugged. After that last dream about killing the monster and carrying his dream Loki out of the abandoned hospital, his dreams had become normal. Either he couldn't remember them, or they had been blurry and insignificant, which was absolutely normal for him.

"I think I remember seeing you in one of my recent dreams," Loki said pensively, furrowing his eyebrows in an attempt to recollect something. "I don't know, maybe I'd seen it when... when I was a vegetable. I can't be certain about it. I just remember that you didn't look like yourself most of the time in that dream."

"What did I look like then?" Thor asked curiously.

"It's stupid and hard to explain. As far as I can recall, it was cold and dark around me, and you were made of light and warmth. I just felt that it was you even though everything was.... blurry. Sometimes I just saw you, and you looked almost normal, but you radiated the light... or something like that," the younger of the two replied, though he looked like he wasn't satisfied with his own explanation at all. Maybe it was something that was just hard to put into words even for him. "I told you it was stupid," he added dismissively.

     Light and warmth?.. Thor suddenly remembered that in his own dreams, when he had been exploring the dark, windowless corridors and tunnels of that hospital, he had hardly seen any places where there was no light at all, except for the room with the refrigerators, the first time he'd been there, and a couple of other places. He had thought it was odd back then, since he hadn't found any sources of light, though he had tried to. Could it be that that dim light had been radiated from **him** , illuminating his way, even though his body looked perfectly normal to him?.. He also remembered that his dream Loki had been squinting sometimes whilst looking in Thor's direction, as if his eyes needed to get used to light.

     Damn, he knew he should really stop it. Loki's dreams were Loki's, and his, Thor's, were his own. He didn't want to start going insane again. All of that had been odd and mysterious, but it was over, and it was better left behind.

 

     Frigga rang the next day in the evening, as usual, and talked to Loki for some time before asking him to give the mobile phone back to Thor.

"Hi, Mum," the blond man greeted with a small smile. He watched Loki leaving for a shower in moderately good mood after talking to her. She always knew how to make her dear 'princes' feel better.

"Hello, darling. How are you?"

"Fine."

"Are you?" she asked suspiciously.

"Just a little worried about our return," Thor confessed. "I... I just don't want them to put Loki into that madhouse again."

"I'm sure it can be avoided now."

"I don't want doctors to bother him more than necessary."

"You've always been like this since we had him," Frigga smiled, which was evident in her voice.

"Like what?" he smiled weakly.

"If little Loki was ill and needed some unpleasant treatment or was being given some usual inoculations, no matter if he was taking it stoically or not, it looked like just watching it hurt you equally badly, though you were trying to hide it. You always knew when he was in pain."

"Really? I don't remember," Thor smiled even wider now.

"Thor..." Frigga said after a pause, sounding rather serious now. "I have some news, but I didn't have heart to say it to Loki just yet... I want you to know..."

"What is it?" Thor asked worriedly.

"Just calm down and listen," she soothed. "They've found him." There was a silence between them for a few seconds. Thor immediately realised whom she was talking about. That sadistic scum that had raped and tormented Loki... The blond was immediately agitated, wanting nothing more right now than to see that pig and break his every bone one by one, slowly.

"So... He's been arrested, right?" he forced out of himself.

"No. He's dead, Thor. They found his dead body in that abandoned hospital yesterday in the morning. They said he'd been dead for almost two weeks," she explained. Thor felt uneasy now and he couldn't understand why.

"Are they sure it's really him?"

"Yes. The medical examination has confirmed that he was the one who attacked Loki. We've just got the results. There's no doubt."

"Who was that scum?"

"He had lived and worked in that district before the plant was closed. Everybody moved out of there, but he, obviously, decided to stay. For a few years he'd been considered missing, and then they automatically decided he was dead. They think all these years he'd been stealing food, alcohol and cigarettes from the warehouse in the nearby district. They found some evidence that he'd been living in one of the rooms of that hospital for a while before starting to hide from the police after what he had done to Loki. They found some of his personal things there when they'd started looking for him months ago. And, ironically, he died there, in that very hospital. That man had a severe form of asthma. And... they think that that was exactly what had killed him. He'd been ill for many years and kept smoking a lot. So... The case is closed. He's dead now."

"Good," Thor frowned, hoping that the bastard had really suffered before dying. "I only wish I was the one who..." he began angrily, but suddenly shut his mouth as the feeling of uneasiness had intensified tenfold.

"Thor?" Frigga murmured, probably thinking that the connection was lost.

"Um... You said almost two weeks..."

"What?"

"You said he'd been dead for almost two weeks before they found him."

"That's right. That's what the experts say. What about it?"

"Nothing... I'll ring you later, Mum, okay?"

     When he ended the call, he was just sitting on his bed, dumbfounded. It was quiet in the room, and the only noises he could hear were the noise of the running water behind the bathroom door and some noises from the street. It didn't make it hard for Thor to hear his own restless heartbeat. His mind was racing.

     The orange, glowing 'eye'... Like a lit end of a cigarette. The acrid smoke... The scum had been smoking a lot. The cigarette burns on Loki's body... The white-hot hands... The wheezing, heavy breath of the monster... The asthma...

     No... No, no and no. Thor wasn't superstitious. It was just a coincidence that Loki had found the way out of his catatonic state after the dream (Thor's(!) dream), in which Thor had killed the demonic creature. It was just a coincidence that the rapist had died, quite possibly, the same day that the monster in Thor's dream had been killed.

 

     Just a coincidence, right?

 

 

 

 

**13\. Epilogue**

    

     Thor was a successful young man of twenty two. He was now officially considered a professional boxer and was currently visiting Sweden, taking part in another competition. But today he had no fights and was hurrying back to the hotel after his training session, knowing that he was being awaited. The beautiful streets of Stockholm were letting him pass without any traffic jams today, which kept Thor's mood up. The radio was on, broadcasting something; the announcer sounded cheerful, but Thor's Swedish was too poor to really understand what it was all about, not that he really paid attention, since in his thoughts he was already in his hotel room.

     The man at the reception desk informed him that his guest had already arrived. But Thor knew it already, though he thanked the polite man anyway.

     As soon as he entered his room on the third floor, he was swiftly attacked with kisses and embraces before he knew it. Lean legs and arms were shamelessly wrapped around him and their owner was hanging on him. Thor's body was strong enough to easily support this familiar weight. The blond returned all the kisses fervently.

"Missed me, baby?" he murmured against the pale, thin lips. He expected some teasing in return, but it didn't follow; the answer was honest:

"Pretty much," the lips whispered and gave Thor another kiss before rubbing gently against his fair beard. The blond sighed contentedly. His Loki was finally with him again. They had been apart for more than three weeks, and Thor had missed his beloved terribly. Because of school, the younger of the two hadn't been able to go to Sweden together with his older brother, so both of them had been waiting for the first days of April when Loki's spring holidays began, so he could go to Stockholm, too, and spend the rest of the competition with Thor; and then they would be able to come back home together.

     Thor inhaled the smell of his lover. Loki smelled of soap and shampoo, he was still slightly wet after taking a shower, and dressed in a bathrobe that was untied and open, hardly covering the naked body. Once the blond noticed it, which was pretty soon, his own fully-clothed body reacted, growing big and hard between the thighs.

"Looks like you've missed me, too..." Loki whispered, rubbing himself against Thor's hard groin with his own, still hanging on the older man and embracing him with all four limbs. Thor's hands were already under the bathrobe, caressing the younger man's thighs and bottom; the skin was smooth and slightly cool after showering. Loki let go of the bigger man and slid down onto his knees; his hands quickly unfastened the leather belt and unzipped the dark-blue jeans before tugging them down impatiently, together with the underwear that had already become too tight to be comfortable, so Thor sighed in relief as he was freed from his confines.

     He quickly took off his leather jacket and t-shirt. Before he knew it, his hard member was taken into a warm mouth; pale hands were caressing his muscular thighs, making his skin crawl in arousal. He gently took wet, black hair in his hand. He was torn between the desire to close his eyes and look down to watch the way Loki's sweet mouth was pleasuring him, and the way the gentle hand was cupping his heavy testicles, making them tighten and slightly pull up at the pleasurable sensations. Being inside the warm mouth felt like heaven, even though he was taken only half-way inside it. The naughty tongue inside that mouth was doing amazing things to his hard flesh. And even though he was already used to be caressed like this, it was too good to ever grow tired of it.

"Loki... I won't last," he panted. But when the warm mouth let go of him, he wanted to whine in dismay. The kiss silenced him as Loki had got up on his feet and wrapped his lean arms around the strong shoulders. His tongue was pushed inside Thor's mouth and the bigger man eagerly met it with his own. The slim body was pressing hard against him and he was exploring the familiar angles and curves with his big, warm hands, completely absorbed in the sensation. Loki moaned into his mouth. Long ago it had become clear to the blond that his better half was very fond of his big, hard muscles, absolutely loved to touch them and to press and rub against them with his entire lean body. It was pleasant and flattering to be so loved both emotionally and physically.

     Their arousals were rubbing against each other, and both young men moaned into the kiss. After taking off the rest of his clothes, Thor let Loki's bathrobe fall on the floor and slowly followed its path with short kisses from the nape of the smaller man's neck down to the crack of his bum. The faint burn scars there had long stopped sending jolts of pain through his chest, especially given that those scars could only be seen on closer examination. He kissed the cool skin of the swell of Loki's bottom and rubbed his beard against it slightly. The soft sighs of pleasure from above were only making Thor more passionate and determined to drag his lover, completely naked now, to the bed, which he did without thinking twice.

     Loki's aroused body was arching and writhing slightly, as the older man was playing with his nipples and navel, gently nipping at them, sucking on them and circling them with his tongue, which never failed to make the younger man whimper and moan. The blond sucked on the alabaster skin hungrily: Loki's thighs and between them, his stomach, chest and neck. His kisses were merciless and nearly bruising, and they were bringing the younger man to the state close to ecstasy. While Thor's mouth was busy with his neck, the younger of the two reached down blindly, took Thor's big, rock-hard erection into his hand and started tugging at it lazily, making the bigger man moan. The hand was holding the blond's arousal tightly, but barely moved. Thor's entire being was begging for some friction, so he eagerly thrust into the offered hand several times, groaning and closing his eyes in pleasure and holding Loki's thin wrist with his own hand, while moving his strong hips back and forth into the tight grasp. And then he couldn't take any more and moved closer to the smaller man's ear.

"On your hands and knees..." he growled quietly, but imperiously. Loki gasped softly and shivered at the sensual order, his member twitched (as Thor didn't fail to notice), and he turned onto his stomach before he was up on his knees, his head on the bed, so his bottom up in the air for being taken. As much as he didn't like to be commanded and would've rather done everything the other way around, there definitely were exceptions, and Thor knew it very well. He rubbed the small hips and sides of the younger man with his hands, gaining a mewl as a reward. They'd had more than enough of foreplay for lovers that had been apart for quite a while and couldn't wait to become one. 

"The side pocket of my bag..." Loki murmured half-consciously. Thor knew what he was talking about. One of the two still not unpacked bags that belonged to his brother was right near the bed (most likely, left there deliberately). In the side pocket, among Loki's toiletries Thor found the tube of lubricant and unscrewed the lid impatiently.

"Open up..." was another low, lust-filled, imperious growl that Thor emitted, which made Loki moan and comply. He reached back and spread his own white cheeks apart for Thor, exposing the tiny hole between them even more. His back arched wantonly. While the blond was kissing the smaller man's back and rubbing one hand against the milky-white thigh, his lubricated thumb pressed and slowly slid into the tight little hole exposed to him so kindly. The younger of the two gasped at being penetrated and his muscles were slightly clenching around the thick, blunt thumb that only pushed in deeper stubbornly, making the younger man cry out and let go of his spread buttocks, grasping at the now rumpled sheets under him instead. Thor felt dizzy from the acute desire to shove his painfully hard erection into the pulsating orifice.

     And he did, only a couple of minutes later, when Loki was ready and very eager to have him inside. Thor was entering his lover slowly, though Loki was so impatient that somewhere along the way he was carefully and slowly moving back to impale himself on the hard, thoroughly lubricated flesh. When Thor's member was fully inside, he gave himself a moment of rest, knowing that he was too close to his orgasm at the moment and wanting to save it for at least a little later. Loki leaned back to press his back against the muscular chest and turned his head, making it possible for Thor to capture his lips in a gentle kiss, enjoying the sight of the green half-lidded eyes with the fluttering eyelashes and the slight flush that looked so beautiful on the fair face.

      But a minute later the gentleness was gone. Loki was on his knees, his chest pressed against the wall at the headboard of the bed. His arms were stretched up and also pressed against the wall. Thor was behind him in the same position, his hands were covering Loki's and he was thrusting into the smaller body like there was no tomorrow. The younger man's head was thrown back onto the blond's shoulder. His moans and cries of pleasure were becoming louder. Thor didn't now how much longer he was going to last, but he didn't want to slow down; couldn't slow down. Groaning and panting harshly he kept driving his lover and himself insane with the speed and power of his thrusts. And only when he saw his brother's hand travelling down to his groin, the blond let go and with a low moan came hard into his lover's clenching bottom, pressing hard against the sweet curve, aware that Loki was coming as well, into his hand, with a small shriek.

     Thor closed his eyes, holding his lover even tighter now and getting his breath back. He felt so whole right now...

 

     They were resting against each other, feeling lazy after their lovemaking and just desiring to be close to each other. Loki's hand was leisurely playing with his brother's long, blond hair.

"I really missed you," he murmured, apparently allowing himself to show some sentiment.

"Yes, I gathered that much," Thor frowned playfully. "Who was teasing me with all those naughty text messages? Huh?" he accused with a small smirk. Loki responded with a pretentiously innocent smile, and the blond shook his head. "You'd done **everything** to make sure those three weeks without you were hellish for me. Who was wailing and sobbing into the phone for a good hour and purposely made me feel like I was a traitor because of leaving for this competition, even though you already had your tickets to join me later? Not to mention that it was four in the morning."

"It only happened once. And it was just... a moment of weakness," Loki replied, unaffected by the soft scolding.

"Uh-huh," Thor frowned again, but kept smiling. "It rather looked like you were angry, lonely, upset and capricious, and made sure I felt bad, too; to keep you company, so to speak."

"Well, you chose me many years ago, remember? Now face the consequences," Loki teased and ended the banter with a sweet, disarming kiss. And what, just what, Thor could say to that? He felt really content...

     It suddenly occurred to him that they'd been lovers for about one year now.

     All of it had started with a kiss, the one that almost eighteen years old Loki had given Thor one day. Before that the blond had only kissed his brother like that in his dreams (those that had made him feel really ashamed upon waking up). He had interrupted the kiss, shaking his head 'no', not even able to say how wrong it was of them to do anything like that; he couldn't speak. Loki had given him a hurt look and stormed away before locking himself up in his room and refusing to talk to anyone. It hadn't begun all of a sudden. Before that kiss there had been careful touches and stolen glances... for months; in other words, there was the sexual tension that both of them had been secretly feeling towards each other.

     When Thor had tried dating some young woman, Loki had become frighteningly cold about everything and rather aggressive towards both Thor and that woman, as well as many other people. It had been typical of Loki to make sure Thor forgot any girl that he was interested in (or any girl interested in him) even when she was there, for example sitting between them and distracting Thor by talking about something that Thor found interesting, or setting up something that would hold the blond's attention on Loki, and Loki alone, and cancelling his dates. It was normal for him to make Thor's girlfriends (potential or actual ones) feel like a third wheel, unneeded; an annoyance that should kindly fuck off and leave them alone (except for Sif, whom Loki liked (not that he would ever admit it openly), so he'd made sure she stayed in Thor's life... as a friend, a best friend). Loki had done it before, because of jealousy, and it wasn't a secret that he was manipulative.

     But after all their trials there had been nothing like that anymore. Loki was cold and unforgiving when he'd found out about that woman. He simply felt betrayed and treated the blond as a traitor, and definitely made him feel like that.

     Not that the older of the two had really wanted any relationship with her. He'd just wanted a distraction, but it didn't work anyway.

     Thor had tried blaming Loki's transitional age, just as reluctant to get at the roots of things, as back then, a year or so earlier, when Stefán had fallen from stairs and broken his arm.., a couple of weeks after Loki's return to school, the return that had been immensely hard for him emotionally. Later Stefán had been insisting that his fall had been just an accident. Loki was smaller and weaker than he, so no one had suspected anything. And when Thor had been carefully watching Loki's reaction at the 'news', he was seeing the blank expression that betrayed nothing. The blond had decided to just let it go and never mention it again.

     In their complicated relationship he'd really wanted to remain just as blind and deaf.

     But that kiss had changed everything. When they had finally decided to talk about it a few days later, both agreed that what they felt was wrong; but the very same night they ended up in the same bed, rubbing against each other fervently and kissing each other so madly that there had been a feeling that the world had come to its end. Loki's eyes had been red and his eyelids swollen from crying after their earlier conversation (yes, the one where they had decided (or rather it was Thor who had decided) that nothing except for brotherly love could ever be between them). It had broken Thor's heart that he had been making his brother suffer so badly (and himself in addition). Loki had confessed that he couldn't help it, that he felt like he wasn't whole without Thor, that without him he was alone, no matter who was by his side, that he simply couldn't imagine himself with anybody else, that it hurt him to even think about Thor with anybody else and that it had always hurt him. Thor couldn't help but remember the almost forgotten, buried inside his subconsciousness, conversation with his brother from one of those odd dreams he'd had almost two years, or so, earlier: 

_"We... we will never part."_

_"We won't."_

_"Promise me," a demanding, but deeply desperate whisper..._

_"I swear."_

_"I will hold you to that, you know... You can't take it back."_  
  
     He couldn't take it back... Not that he'd intended to, even if dreams were just dreams (weren't they?).

     They hadn't had a beautiful start of their relationship; everything had been awkward at first, and each one of them had been nervous for their personal reasons. But later it had started to feel right, as if it should have always been this way, like they had been made for each other.

     What could they do if neither of them could imagine themselves with anyone else? What could they do if they felt perfect together like the two pieces of a puzzle? Like soulmates...

 

     After the horrifying tragedy that had happened to Loki a few years ago, it had taken them time and each other's closeness to overcome it. And it had made them even closer.

 

     No one knew their secret so far, even the closest people. But someday they would find out. And, no matter what reaction followed their revelations, Loki and Thor would face it together. Most people would undoubtedly find their relationship perverse and strange. But it didn't bother Thor. He knew that **really** strange things existed and happened in the world, much stranger than two people loving each other.

 

     He pressed himself closer to his one and only love, feeling that he was falling asleep peacefully, despite the fact that it was only a late afternoon.

 

**The End**

 

**The Alternate Ending**

    Thor killed the monster and saved Loki out of the hospital, but at the entrance doors he realised that he couldn't leave, no matter what he did. Something was keeping him inside. He put Loki down and practically pushed him out of the building. The smoke slowly cleared away inside the hospital, so it was safe now. Loki absolutely refused to leave, but Thor angrily convinced him to. They didn't understand what was wrong, but, obviously, it was only Loki who could leave.

     Standing at the opened entrance doors Thor was watching his little brother walking away, turning back his tear-drenched face every few, unsure, steps he made. The pale sun was shining down on the boy, and Thor desperately wanted to be out there with his baby brother. The parting hurt them both terribly, but Thor knew that Loki had to be away from this place, even if he wanted to be selfish and keep Loki to himself forever. It broke his heart as he kept watching Loki leaving, unable to follow him, no matter how much he desired to. He kept standing there, inconsolable, long after he'd stopped seeing Loki and feeling him via his empathy, as well, which felt like his heart had been torn out of his chest.  
  
     And then, feeling empty, he walked upstairs and sat down on the rooftop; he closed his eyes, letting the pale sun warm his face soothingly. 

 

     In the morning Ingibjörg entered their hotel room, as usual. She found Loki sitting on his bed. He looked like he was starting to come to his senses; in the beginning of the way to the complete consciousness. She thought that Thor was still sleeping, but she knew he had a training session this morning; plus, she could see that Loki started reacting at something, so she decided to wake Thor up... Only to find him dead in his bed.

     Later it was established that he had let a hard blow through to his head during his latest fight, and had been having a haemorrhage of the brain that nobody had had an idea about. So he had died in his sleep (he had been fighting the monster whilst dying in reality, and the life had left him completely at those entrance doors. He had already been dead by then, so he couldn't go with Loki).

 

     Loki slowly regained consciousness, and when he learned that Thor was dead, he was absolutely devastated. It was hard to imagine his condition as after surviving a nightmarish torture back in the morgue, he 'woke up' only to find out that he had lost Thor for good. That led to a serious depression, because he didn't have his rock to lean on.

     Thor was buried when Loki's mind wasn't working properly yet, so, for his own sake, Frigga and Odin decided that it wasn't good for him to be there during the funeral. But later, after visiting Thor's grave, Loki felt especially empty and alone, and had nothing to hold onto (they'd had a bond, after all). The more conscious he became, the worse it hurt. He only had Frigga and Odin, but it didn't help, even though Thor's death had been a deathblow to all of them.

 

***

 

     About ten years later, when Loki was already a grown-up man, he was a more or less successful business man, but his personal life was nowhere near being settled.  
  
     He'd had a very few people he'd been going out with, but it hadn't worked, so he gave up on it completely without any regrets. At first he had been too traumatised and had been having his flashbacks for a long time, so he wasn't interested in any physical closeness. Plus, nobody was enough for him emotionally. He kept feeling lonely, anyway. And then... almost every night, in his sleep, he had been feeling himself resting inside the warm, muscular embrace, so any lover had become a third wheel, an annoying one. Loki didn't want those 'strangers' anywhere near him and, rather harshly, made it clear to the last one of them, even though the rudeness had probably been uncalled for. Almost every night Loki had felt warm, loved and secure; something that he never felt whilst awake.

     And then he started having very vivid dreams. They were all about that abandoned hospital. He found himself outside of it every time, but was too afraid to enter, before he started seeing Thor behind one of the windows, looking at him. Thor looked older now, as old as he would've been in reality if he was alive. Thor smiled at him every time, encouraging him to enter, and one day Loki did.

     Since then, Loki had been visiting that place pretty often. It was safe. There were only Thor and he. Some dreams were hazy, some unnaturally vivid, but Loki didn't care, as long as he kept coming back there to Thor; to talk, to make love, to become whole... It made him happy, really happy. Gradually, he'd become rather detached from his real life though and started abusing sleeping pills until one day, when he was thirty seven, he didn't wake up...

 

 

**The End**

 

**Author's Note:**

> The Alternate Ending is what I originally planned for the ending of this story, but, in the end, I decided against it (it was hard to kill Thor after spending so much time in his head). Still, I decided to write a short, not detailed version of that originally planned ending.


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